Rise of the Silver Stars
by IRS
Summary: HE LIVES! CH 35: The crew grapples with the whirlwind they've been caught up in, leading to an important fresh start.
1. Prologue: Breakfast of Champions

Well, after surviving my initial exposure to this corner of FF.net, two things happened- my ego grew (poor thing was looking all skin and bones), and I got walloped by a muse of inspiration. Or a large case of canned fruit at work. Either way, the head trauma knocked loose an Idea™ (Warning: Do not give to humans), resulting in this latest endevour. I do hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
  
Legal Deflectors: I don't own Trigun or any characters related to Trigun. This work is not to be duplicated or sold for profit. All applicable taxes must be paid under pain of listening to my karoke. You don't want to listen to my karoke.  
  
Legend: Italics denote thought, emphasis.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Prologue: Breakfast of Champions  
  
You could fry an egg on the boardwalk.  
  
Really, you could. It was simply _that_ hot. Well, you would have to use a few mirrors, and why anyone would want to do so was beyond knowing, what with all the dust and dirt that would be blown on, tracked in, and occasionally spat on said boardwalk if one was near the few stores and the town's saloon.  
  
Of course, if one didn't have access to a stove, one tended to take what one could get- As was the one fellow out that day, along with nearly every reflective surface he could find.  
  
_"C'mon, just a little hotter..."_  
  
He grinned as the eggs finally started to bubble, drooling ever so slightly as they inched closer to a nice fried state. They weren't doughnuts, but they'd quell the snarling beast that had at some point snuck in and kicked out his stomach. He rubbed his hands gleefully, fork and knife at the ready to dig into the dubious feast, until his stove was turned off by a large black cloud. Well, it really wasn't a cloud, it was more like a major stormfront.... that happened to be named Meryl.  
  
"And just what are you doing with my compact?" asked the stormfront, with a tone that suggested rough weather if the answer wasn't a really good one.  
  
"Well, I was frying some eggs..."  
  
"I can see _that_." _"Uh oh, wind's picking up."_  
  
"I needed to heat them up some way, and since you won't let me in the kitchen I had to improvise!"  
  
"So you 'improvised' your way through _my_ bag, _Milly's_ bag, and the entire rest of the house from the looks of things?" _"Got some thunder and lightning now."_  
  
"Ehhh... Well, kinda. I didn't have enough mirrors on my own, so I had to borrow a few."  
  
"They have a word for borrowing things without asking. That word is _stealing_. Not to mention that you shouldn't be looking through a person's personal possessions!" _"Warning! Warning! Take cover!"_  
  
Luckily, impending doom was averted when a no-pressure area emerged from the house, just woken from a nice afternoon nap.  
  
"Ooh, what's that you have there, Mr. Vash?" _"Showtime!"_  
  
Slipping into Triple-O mode (Overbearing, Overblown, Overdone), he stood up ramrod straight and encompassed the precariously balanced egg fryer with a grandoise sweep of his hand. "This, my fine lady, is the Vash Super-Deluxe Solar Stove! Capable of frying an egg or any other item placed just right, provided you have plenty of sun and the hunger to eat off anything!" He finished up with a dramatic flourish towards the twin suns, put on his biggest grin, and awaited the forecast.  
  
The forecast changed from 'hurricane' to 'sunny' just like that. "Well, after a pitiful display like that, I suppose I can let you off the hook, though I'll be taking my compact. Oh, and if you do it again, expect more than seven years worth of bad luck." Clear blue skies were seen as the stormfront gathered up her things and turned to head back in.  
  
"Oh Mr. Vash, you're so silly sometimes! I'd have been happy to fry some eggs for you if you just asked."  
  
"Yeah, well, I didn't want to wake you just for that. Besides, I wasn't sure if I could!"  
  
"No worries, Mr. Vash! I seem to wake up a lot more easily these days..." She trailed off, her gaze wandering up to the second story window with the closed drapes. Where _he_ was sleeping.  
  
_"She don't know anything, at least nothing I've said, but she knows he's dangerous. Wish I had that sort of preception..."_ "Anyway, I'm just glad I didn't get hit over it! For someone with so much pink stuff, Meryl sure doesn't show much of a soft side."  
  
In the next second, he found his prespective on the world suddenly shifted about 90 degrees, giving him an excellent extremely close up view of his eggs. Well, 'shifted' wasn't exactly the word. More like 'slammed'. The cause of this shift was at the door to the house, arm outstretched, clutching a frying pan, and turning about as pink as her- OW!  
  
"And that one's for what you were about to think! Really, some people! And then there's you, who's their king! Breath another word about _that_, and I'll be forced to give Your Majesty another crowning!"  
  
With that, Meryl hoisted the frying pan over her shoulder, turned her front to the door, her nose to the sky, and stormed off to hail on the interior of the house.  
  
"Wow Mr. Vash, she really does like you! Calling you a king and all!"  
  
"Yeah, I'm honored..." _"Note to self: Make sure storm is really past, and you're not just in the eye. Hmm... These eggs really aren't that bad at all ."_

* * *

Well, that's a start, with a wonderful view of the everyday life of our favorite broomhead. Next time: Meditation over Mr. Cooking Utensils' bed, and the plot begins to squirm, though I can assure you that it has nothing to do with a certain priest.  
  
'Cuz he's busy, being dead and stuff. No miracle resurrections this time. Sorry folks, them's the breaks.  



	2. Chapter 1: Borrowed Things

Ah, such sweet reviewers! Sadly, the way I've got the plot planned, things will be taking some much more serious turns from the lighthearted beginnings.  
  
Disclaimer: Trigun not mine.  
  
Disclaimer's disclaimer: Neither is grammar.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 1: Borrowed Things  
  
Breakfast was over and done with. Well, from the time, you'd probably have called it lunch, but according to his own personal clock, it was breakfast by merit of it having been the first meal of the day. With the rumblings quieted from both within and without- assuming he hadn't done anything else to upset the raven-haired one -he headed back in to check on his brother.  
  
Ah, his brother. The psycho nutcase as Meryl would say to him, who had been rendered temporally harmless by five bullets and a lot of lost blood. Unlike a human, what with all their person-to-person differences, the two of them would recover on a precise timetable, as predictable as the sunrise. He had one month, two days, and five hours until Knives woke up after this damage, give or take a few minutes. He had that long to think up a good argument- no, an ironclad argument -to convince Knives that humanity was worthwhile in the grand scheme of things. If he couldn't, he didn't know what he'd do next. Would he have to face him in another duel, this time for the kill? Would he have to go so far to save the humans? Could he actually do it with so many unknowns?  
  
"Oh, I am _so_ in trouble!"  
  
"Mr. Vash?" came an inquisitive question from the base of the stairs.  
  
"Nothing, nothing, just remembered something that will probably earn me another lump on the head."  
  
No sooner had he said it than the gentle click clacking sound drifting out of the girls' room stopped, to be replaced by the heavy thudding sound of boots headed his way, probably to dispense another round of blunt force trauma. All of a sudden the town's bar seemed like the perfect destination, though before he could turn and sneak out she had him in view, eyes flashing, shoulders set, and mouth turned down in an ever so cute frown.  
  
"What did you do this time?"  
  
He rapidly motioned with his eyes towards the room with the closed door. Her features softened instantly. They had set a policy of no talking about Knives around Milly for her sake, especially considering how he had been involved in the greatest trauma of her life. Despite their efforts, she was picking up the vibes anyway. Knives radiated malice, and their own reactions whenever she asked about him were only reinforcing her doubts. He'd have to explain it to her sometime, a task he wasn't looking foreward to at all. The shadow that was just starting to creep out of the girl's room seemed to make a physical point on all the troubles he had to deal with, and the consequences therein.  
  
Meryl followed his new gaze to the spot just behind her, and sighed as she reentered the room to pick up her report work. He walked past to the other bedroom that he shared with his brother, pausing to look in after Meryl. The click-clacks resumed as she started typing, while Wolfwood's cross maintained its vigil as it stood silently before the window, the sunlight glinting off it. He kept going, and made it to the boys' room.  
  
There was the source of all his troubles, looking about as dangerous as a dishrag. Well, if you ignored his face. His face was chiseled into a frown, and it wasn't a cute one like Meryl's. Oh no, this frown held nothing but bitterness at nearly all that existed, making him appear to practically extrude hatred all over the room. When those eyes above that frown finally do open, that hatred would be focused with laser-like intensity, enough to sear whatever they lit upon.  
  
He practically collapsed into the chair set up by the bed. Knives on one hand, Milly on the other. He had his work cut out for him. He needed some way to organize his thoughts, so he decided to look at the ceiling in the hope that the answers had been miraculously carved upon it. Sadly, all that was up there was a new crack in the plaster. He stared at it anyway, until he finally had to blink. More of the click-clacks drifted in from the doorway, and he kept his eyes closed, just enjoying the loose rhythm they made. A little voice spoke up in the back of his head, putting foreward an idea. He opened his eyes and pondered it and the crack. _"Well, at least it's an idea. Hopefully it'll lead to more."_  
  
He got up and took the few steps to the girls' room, knocking on the open door with the back of his hand. Meryl's head looked up from her report and she sighed at his visage. "What do you want now?"  
  
He put on his best smile. "Well, I was wondering if I could borrow your typewriter for a while. I may need it for a few days."  
  
"I suppose you can... but you better not break it, or you'll be getting me a new one." There was just enough edge in her voice to inform him that if he did break it, he would be getting her a new one no matter how far he might try and run.  
  
"Thanks Meryl." He reached for it, only to have his hand slammed down by hers just inches short of his goal.  
  
"_After_ I'm done, that is." He grinned at her with his 'Oh, perish the thought!' grin, and she let him see one of her rare smiles.  
  
Milly choose that moment to walk in. "Oh, I'm not interrupting anything am I?"  
  
Their heads turned as one to the door and its smiling occupant, then they noticed that they had come into physical contact. They both did a sharp intake of breath, yanking their hands apart as if the other had just become poisonous while cheeks began to take on red hues. Milly just kept that simple smile of hers going. "I wanted to tell you I'll be getting started on dinner, now you two behave until then."  
  
They both turned redder. He stumbled out after the departing Milly, stammering out "It's not what you think!"  
  
"Whatever you say, Mr. Vash," she replied as she strode down the stairs. "Now you be good to her!"  
  
He just put his hand behind his head and laughed while he rubbed his hair sheepishly. Meryl had stuck her head through the doorway, and when he turned to her she just let her head drop into her hand and sighed. "Even after all the time we've been traveling together, she still gets these crazy ideas."  
  
"Yeah, but it could be worse. She could be right."  
  
¤ ¤ ¤  
  
Outside, a lone soul out braving the heat heard a loud "_Ow!_ Wha'did I do?" emerge from where the Humanoid Typhoon was staying. _"Man, for a notorious outlaw, he sure does get whupped by that woman of his."_ He shook his head at the thought, then hurried on lest his own woman show him why that despite all the outlaw had done, it was still nothing compared to what a woman scorned could do.

* * *

Well, looks like Vash is up to some new tricks these days. Are we about to witness the founding of the Gunsmoke branch of FF.net? Can he come up with a good reason for Knives not to go spider-squashing? Will Monica tell Joey that she really loves Phil? Tune in next time! 


	3. Chapter 2: An Idea Given Form

I'm baaack...  
  
Disclaimer: 50% chance of Thunderstorms means we actually have no blinkin' idea what the weather will be.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 2: An Idea Given Form  
  
He had actually made surprisingly good progress. There was a nice stack of neatly-typed sheets sitting by the typewriter. Of course, the massive mountain of crumpled up paper that hid a trashcan somewhere beneath it was the more noticeable testament to his skill with wordsmithing. The penetrating smell of correction fluid also lent its own presence, telling anyone nearby that his spelling was nothing short of atrocious. He sighed again as he consulted with his new best friend, Mr. Dictionary. Why was actually writing out stuff so much harder than talking?  
  
So intent in his study of just how the heck one spelled- of all the words to get stuck on -'typhoon', that he completely missed hearing the bearer of the magical elixir of life come in. The 'chink' of the coffee cup against the table next to his elbow nearly made him leap out of his shoes.  
  
"On second thought, maybe you've had enough for the time being."  
  
His own hand shot out to intercept hers. "To take back a gift once given is just too cruel."  
  
"You know, no matter how many times I hear you say things like that, I still can't believe you manage to keep a straight face."  
  
"Years of practice, milady!"  
  
That was when he heard it. That soft bubbling of laughter from the hallway, though by the time he turned all that might have been there were a few strands of hair moving on down to other business, though they had in all likelihood once again been caught actually touching each other.  
  
"I swear, sometimes I feel like she's stalking us to complete some secret collection of embarrassing moments."  
  
"Funny that it takes her to make us notice."  
  
"Not one more word, Mr. Vash the Stampede," came the retort, accompanied with a threatening finger wag.  
  
He just smiled at her. One of his real smiles. They used to be so few and far between, he could recall times when he had spent years from one to the next. However, there was just something about her that brought them out. This wasn't lost on her either, she had been around him long enough to know the masks he threw up for what they were. Notwithstanding her own experience with masks. They both had that aspect in common, that they never really let people get too close to them. Milly was the exception, able to see right through whatever they tried to disguise themselves with, which was something even he had lost the ability to do. That was why he finally stopped wearing the red coat that was part of the great myth of Vash the Stampede. He didn't need to wear that mask of courage and determination now that he had _real_ courage and _real_ determination in him. Or did he? Knives still lay in the bed at the side of the room, their one hundred thirty year long argument ongoing, merely on hold while he recovered. Milly was walking down the street, pickaxe in hand, off to do more digging, while the truth about Knives still hung over his head.  
  
There was a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, and he looked up into her face, just a hint of a smile upon it. "We'll manage it somehow. We always do."  
  
He gave her another halfsided grin. "Your mask is off, you know."  
  
"My what? Ooh, you make no sense whatsoever!" She bopped him one on the head and stormed out, the hurricane back in place. It hadn't been a very hard hit. It was a silent thanks from the real Meryl buried beneath all that anger and responsibility.  
  
"Courage and determination..." he muttered to nothing in particular.  
  
Then the moment was past, so he leaned over and yelled through the floor "What, no doughnuts?"  
  
Her counterpoint was made by a broom handle that smashed its way through the floor from the kitchen below, narrowly missing skewering his head. It jiggled a bit, then sank back down. Then something else came up through the hole- the mutilated remains of a doughnut being forced through the too-narrow space. He shrugged and snatched it up anyway. "Thans, Muryl!" came out of his mouth as the doughnut went in.  
  
"I'll be back tonight, try not to do any more damage while I'm out!" came the reply, as if she wasn't the one who put the new hole in the building.  
  
He heard the front door slam, and took a sip of the coffee to wash down the doughnut. Nice and sweet, just how he liked it and completely different from the boiled sludge she preferred.  
  
Next morning, the doughnuts came with the coffee.  
  
¤ ¤ ¤  
  
It had been almost three weeks total since he had started making the typewriter do his bidding. The mountain of crumpled paper looked ready to fall over at any time, an avalanche of deadly boulders that could give someone a lot of nasty papercuts. This was compared to the three inch high stack of sheets he had just finished making, neatly ordered, though there was one sheet left to add to it, at a spot just under the first sheet of the pile. This last sheet was stuck in the typewriter, still blank, as he thought about what exactly to put on it. The sky was darkening outside, so that meant the girls would be home soon. He wanted to finish it before then, as the noise as they unwound from work would make it impossible to think of anything but them. Or rather, think of _her_. She had an effect on him, one that was just getting stronger as time went on... or was it as he made this stack of papers grow? The feeling took him back, far back, to the only other person to even make him feel so... so... damn. He gave Mr. Dictionary a good thump for being so useless when he needed just the right word. Then his thoughts shifted back to the blank piece of paper from the words and girls, and he figured that maybe these separate things weren't so separate after all.  
  
The neat pile of paper was complete when the noise below started up, signaling that the workday was done.  
  
¤ ¤ ¤  
  
She yawned as she made her way up the stairs. Work at the diner had been both long and dull, though the tips had been fairly generous today. The patrons were learning that expressing appreciation for this waitress was best done with double dollars, not pats to the behind. After all, the prior would get them after-dinner mints and extra attention next time, while the latter would get them head injuries and extra chilly stares. In any case, the day was over and with the necessities of hygiene taken care of, she was more than ready to flop into bed. Before she could make it in to the neatly-made bed and the sound slumber it promised, she spotted the spiky hair poking out from the other door further down. It extended out, to reveal the face below it, set in an expression she'd never seen before. She knew how to respond to Goofy Vash, and Brazen Vash, and Weepy Vash, but this was a new one. It didn't look like anything at all, like this was just... Vash. She had only caught moments when he was even remotely like this, usually when he had on his honest smile or was looking up at the stars. It made her curiosity pick up.  
  
"I've finished with your typewriter, thanks for letting me use it. You can take it back anytime."  
  
So, he had finished with whatever it was that he had been cooped up here writing? Her curiosity grew again, and she walked on down and into the boys' room. The lights were out, as the bulb had burned out some time ago, but between the hall light and the moons it was plenty bright to see by given a moment to adjust. She went over to her typewriter, noting that it still seemed to be in good shape. A small part of her snorted internally. _"At least he actually didn't damage it."_ Then she spotted the stack of paper next to it.  
  
"Go ahead. I wouldn't have written it if I meant to keep it private."  
  
He was standing in the doorway, making it impossible to see his expression against the bright hall beyond. She turned back to the paper pile, and started to read. There wasn't much on the top page. "The Life and Times of Vash the Stampede, by himself." Her gaze shot back up to him.  
  
"You already know most of what's in there, it's just got a lot more of the smaller details. Turn the page, I'd like your opinion on it."  
  
Some part of her screamed that this was a very bad idea, but she gave it a mental kick to the shins and turned the page anyway. "Dedicated to the two people who gave me the greatest of gifts- Rem Saverem, who taught me how to find the good in everyone, and to..."  
  
That annoying voice was back, yelling at her not to go a word farther. As if. She turned its own aggressiveness back at it, she had to know and no part of her was going to say otherwise.  
  
"...Meryl Stryfe, who showed me what the good really was, and that even I had some in me."  
  
The silence was blaringly loud. Neither of them moved for a few moments of eternity. If it wasn't for her heartbeat, she would have been sure time had stopped. He clearly wasn't going to do a thing until she acted first. Her eyes watered up. Without turning, she managed to say "It's... perfect. Just perfect."  
  
He came over to her side, moving very softly. She felt his hand cup her chin and gently turn her to look up at him. He was smiling, really smiling, even as tears streaked his face. There was no sorrow in them. She found herself clutching him, not sure exactly when her arms had moved.  
  
"I never knew..."  
  
"Neither did I, until I sat down and wrote it all out. In retrospect, it's been there for quite some time, just waiting to be brought out. I'm sure you knew it too."  
  
Looking back, she had known. "So now what?"  
  
He looked down at her as she looked up. "There was another story I heard, well, it was a lot of stories. But, I think the line is perfect. We'll just... live happily ever after."  
  
The world spun around her, and next thing she knew she was on top of him in his bed. The first kiss was everything she had been hoping for. She always thought one was supposed to close their eyes for a kiss, but she didn't want to even blink. All she could see was his eyes, shimmering like two pools of water, and nothing was going to get in the way of that view. They broke it, and the little part of her that she usually stood behind made one more effort to get back in control. "What about your brother?"  
  
He glanced across the room, to where Knives was laying. He winked, then with a flick of his legs his boots flew off into the mountain of discarded paper. It teetered, then fell over to bury most of Knives under its white mass. "Better?"  
  
"Good enough." She kissed him again as she internally beat the aspect that dared to interfere to within an inch of its ethereal life.  
  
¤ ¤ ¤  
  
A pair of eyes withdrew from the doorway, a big smile beneath them. Milly crept back to the room that she wouldn't be sharing with Meryl tonight, and managed to close the door behind her without making a sound. No need to be a Peeping Thomas via eye or ear.  
  
"Well honey, it looks like Mr. Vash and Meryl finally came to their senses. As my middle big sister says, 'Sometimes love needs a helping hand.' I wish you could have met her."  
  
She squatted down next to the cross in front of the window, looking out at the last traces of light vanishing over the horizon.  
  
"I think they'll have lots of kids, Mr. Vash is really good with them. Just like we would have had..."  
  
She placed one hand on it and smiled, before drifting off to sleep. Sometime during the night, whether from a stray breeze from the window, the sheer weight on the floor, or the rhythmic motions from across the hall, the cross shifted to lean over her, ever so slightly.

* * *

'Help! Help! I'm buried under tons of some light springy soft stuff!'  
  
Well, I don't usually do Fluff, though it's important to the story. At this rate, I won't be getting to the good stuff for quite a few chapters. Oh well, the longer the wait the better the result. And should it not be absolutely wonderful, may the moth men get me while I sleep. Assuming they can get past the auditors. Though right now, I think I have more to worry about from Knives- he's going to get me for the paper avalanche, I just know it... ¤envisions Knives' legs curling up after having the mountain fall on him, a la Wicked Witch of the East¤  
  
**Reviewer Responses**  
  
Valerie Hayashibara & Sorian (delayed from the prologue): Yep, I thought humor was the best way to kick things off, though that entire scene came out of the very first sentence. Strange how it happens, eh?  
  
Chibi Chibi: Having them in character just means I'm doing it right ;) I'll try to keep it going at a fair clip.  
  
Sorian: He really does, doesn't he? Guess that's why he needs all the doughnuts, it must take tremendous energy.  
  
Yma: Woah, now that's high praise! Good characterization is something I strive for, if I can't get into the character's head, then it's nearly impossible to write them well. And thus far, I haven't even gotten to the plot part, this has all been setup. Well, not _all_ all, but you get the idea.****


	4. Chapter 3: Removing a Weight

G'day folks! The little story is still chugging along, and this time the plot is starting to finally get moving. Buckle up!

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 3: Removing a Weight  
  
"Ugh, where is it?"  
  
The room was a mess. Crumpled paper covered most of it, including the still-buried Knives. The side of the room that wasn't covered in paper was instead covered with clothing and bedsheets. She had managed to find just about everything Vash had discarded last night, but couldn't find the only piece she had brought in on her. She may have let him see her as she was in both mind and body, but everyone else wasn't going to.  
  
"It's just a nightshirt, it can't have walked off!"  
  
A bit of a giggle from the bed called her attention back to Vash, who had his real arm out from under the covers and was wiggling his pinky... up? Following the gesture, she finally spotted her nightshirt hanging off the ceiling fan. _"Of all the places..."_ She jumped up a few times to try and grab it, but it remained just ever so slightly out of range. Her attempts were cut short when a series of whistles from Vash made her realize just what she'd been doing in front of him. She reddened as he began to chant 'more, more!' while waving a double dollar in his hand.  
  
"You _could_ be a gentleman and get it for me."  
  
"Okay, though I think you might want to change professions- you'd rake in the cash!"  
  
Her eyebrow twitched. _"Did he just..."_  
  
¤ ¤ ¤  
  
Outside, a lone fellow heard another loud "_Ow!_ Wha'did I do?" emerge from the Stampede's residence, then saw one of his woman strut by an upper window with a bedsheet wrapped around her. The Stampede himself was close behind, and glanced out the window. _"DammitdammitDAMMIT!"_ He dove for the corner of the next building, forgetting that he was getting his best suit dirty, and scrambled away as fast as he could. He said a quick prayer to be spared from the Typhoon's wrath, and vowed to never, _ever_ go by that house again.  
  
¤ ¤ ¤  
  
As luck would have it, it was a Sunday, and that meant nearly everyone was off work including the residents of one little house. The mood was fairly light around said house, since relaxing was pretty good for lifting spirits, and so were admissions of love. Indeed, there was a danger of the whole place lifting off its foundations and floating off into the sky, if it wasn't for one spike that was holding him down. One that he intended to take care of at noon, when she got back from the later service at the local church.  
  
He was sitting out on a rocking chair they had on the front porch, enjoying the creak it made while stroking the stray cat that sometimes stopped by. Meryl had wanted him to help with the housework, _especially_ the massive mess in the boy's room, but he had other plans.  
  
"I'm going to tell her."  
  
That had been all it took to get him out of the housework. Now he was just enjoying the morning, waiting for Milly to return, while gently rocking back and forth. He had taken the tougher job, after all, and he needed to prepare himself for it. The bell finally sounded, and shortly after the congregation began to walk past. Well, only a few of the kids actually walked, and nearly everyone would turn to keep as much space as the street allowed between themselves and himself. It was just as well, if they did stop and chat he'd probably throw up his goofy mask and that'd make what was next a lot harder. He kept scanning the passerby until the one he was interested in appeared.  
  
She was walking along with a grin on her face, sucking pudding from a can, with Wolfwood's cross slung across her back. As she got closer, he spotted a large blob of it on the side of her mouth, and got out one of the thirty-odd handkerchiefs he had brought. He breathed a silent thanks that he'd get the first one to her innocuously before the hammer fell.  
  
"Hello Milly! You've got a bit of pudding here," pointing to the edge of his lip.  
  
She bent over to look. "I don't see any pudding there. Are you trying to get a kiss Mr. Vash? What would Meryl think!"  
  
_"Err..." That_ wasn't how he expected things to start. "No, no! Same spot, your face!"  
  
"Then why didn't you just say so?"  
  
She took the offered handkerchief and wiped the pudding off, that grin of hers unchanged. He was going to hate himself for what he'd have to do next. He decided on the roundabout route for starters.  
  
"So, what's with the heavy artillery?" he asked, pointing at the cross.  
  
"Well, Nicholas was a priest, so it's only right I bring him to the sermon every Sunday." _"She calls it Nicholas, how sweet... in a completely creepy sort of way."_  
  
"Well, speaking of Nicholas... I have something to tell you." His smile dropped with his tone. Her own smile faded too, and she set 'Nicholas' down against the wall and leaned back next to it. From behind her hair, now obscuring her face, she startled him out of his planned speech.  
  
"You're going to tell me he was a Gung-Ho Gun, aren't you?"  
  
"You knew?!"  
  
Her voice was very quiet. "He told me that morning... Then he made me promise to stay inside. He said that he had to fight you, and that only one of you would come back... And you came back. Nicholas didn't."  
  
The silence was oppressive as it stretched on. The first sound he heard was a teardrop hitting the wood planks of the porch. As if that was a signal, she turned to him, looking at him with pain filled eyes.  
  
"I have to know, Mr. Vash... Did you fight him?"  
  
He met her gaze, glad that this was a answer where truth would hurt less. "No. We never fought. He pointed his gun at me, and I said that I'd let him kill me, if he'd promise to never kill again after that. He lowered his gun, and then saved me from a sniper's bullet with that very cross. He resigned from the Gung-ho Guns with that act."  
  
She smiled a bittersweet smile and turned away. "I'm glad."  
  
There was another long silence. A gust of wind passed by, as she dabbed at her eyes.  
  
"Then how did it happen?"  
  
"I don't know. He said there were two Gung-Ho Guns. I went after the sniper, Cain, while he faced the other one. I don't know what happened to him after that, just that somewhere along the way he was mortally wounded. I never found the other Gung-Ho Gun, so they must have gotten away."  
  
"So I'll never know..."  
  
"There is one left who might know. Knives. My brother."  
  
"The one upstairs, right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Another silence. This time, he broke it.  
  
"So, what will you do?"  
  
"I'll ask him when he wakes up. Then I'll just go on. It's all we can do."  
  
She turned, and opened the door to go inside. "Could you get Nicholas? I don't feel very strong right now..."  
  
_"Milly, you have no idea how strong you really are..."_ He picked up the cross, and followed her in. Meryl was there, supporting Milly as she took the stairs up one by one. He shut the door walked up after the girls, placing the cross in front of the window in their room just how she liked it.  
  
¤ ¤ ¤  
  
Later that day, he dropped a large package in the town's mailbox. He had added a little extra to the contents as an afterthought before bundling it up. The stamps had been personally licked by Milly, who had been overjoyed when he asked her to do it. He knew she liked it- it was probably the main reason she wrote each family member individually instead of sticking it all in one big pouch. As for himself, he wasn't exactly feeling happy. Remnants of feelings from the earlier confrontation dogged him, as did drudged up memories. However, he did feel more at peace, and considered it to be a good thing in the long run. There was one less weight on him, and even thought it was only a psychological one, it did feel a whole lot easier to walk. Then again, the face he could see on the porch waiting for him also made his steps lighter. Then a thought struck him. _"Oh man, when am I going to propose? I'll need a ring, but I can't afford one now! I'll have to get a job, but nobody'll hire me around here... Well, maybe at one of the places the girls work at, but that'd be awkward, not to mention whoever's in charge will probably be looking over my shoulder the whole time. Maybe a quick trip to a town where I've got a bank account would-"_**-THUD-**  
  
He remained upright for a moment as the foreward velocity died down, then gracefully tipped back to fall flat on his back while the support post for the porch silently mocked his attempt to pass through it. The stray cat hopped up on his chest, looked him in the face, and meowed a rather smelly comment on his situation all of two inches from his nose. It hopped off as Meryl reached down to pull him up. "Thinking much, are we? You shouldn't try to do that and anything else, that poor brain of yours can't handle the strain."  
  
"Meryl, you're so mean..." he whined as she pulled him up.

* * *

Dang, Fluff to Angst in the span of one chapter. I'm exhausted. At least I got a bit of a plot budge here. I figure one or two more chapters worth of character development, then things pick up in a big way. I've got plans for the insurance girls, big plans. Yes, plans indeed... /evil cackle/  
  
**Reviewer Responses**  
  
Sorian: Ask and ye shall receive!  
  
SapphireWhiteTiggress: Well, thank you, here's an update! 


	5. Chapter 4: Awakening

Ah, time for another installment! Knives is finally going to wake up, let's just hope that he doesn't remember the paper avalanche...

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 4: Awakening  
  
"He'll be aware soon. Get ready."  
  
He hadn't moved anything but his lips to say that, the rest of him remaining so still you could mistake him for a statue. If you looked just close enough, though, you could see the quivers of too-tense muscles, an occasional bead of sweat roll down, or a subtle movement of something under the skin that was just _wrong_- for a human. She had to give herself a mental slap to stop watching Vash, and instead focus on Knives. Or rather, focus on _not_ focusing on Knives. Vash had given them both a few lessons on protecting themselves from Knives. They weren't in the traditional realm of self-defense, concerned with limbs, blades, and bullets, but in an altogether newer and more frightening realm. Vash alone could handle Knives easily enough on the physical plane, but on the mental plane it was every being for themselves.  
  
The very first time he had given her a lesson, she had nearly ended up strangling him out of fear. Even his 'harmless attack' hurt on that level- A primeval terror gripped her and when she regained her senses, she had one hand constricting around his throat. The outcome had been a draw, even though she had a stranglehold on him, her other hand was doing the same to _her_ neck. Visions of a soft-spoken yellow eyed demon haunted her afterwards, even though she had been spared ever being under his control. If it had been anyone other than Vash who entered her mind, she would have killed them at the first chance she got. It hadn't been much, but being attacked on the physical plane seemed to lose all significance after that one experience.  
  
She did get better- with Vash giving her detailed plans on exactly what he was doing, she figured out what the signs were that another mind was trying to probe hers, and to establish some basic defenses to keep intruders out. Imagining a wall actually did the job fairly well once the intruder was in, and letting her attention wander all over was quite good at preventing any entrance at all- Vash said it was like being in a hallway of locked doors, with different ones always flicking open every time she focused on something. Remain focused on something, and he was able to get in. If she focused on Vash, he said it was like opening a door right next to him- the prefect invitation. Oddly, yet not of much surprise, was that Milly was far more difficult to get a fix on. Well, more like completely impossible. Vash hadn't even been able to find the entrance until one of them mentioned pudding, and right after he did get in he said it was like she had a sand steamer's hull around her and all he had to get through was a wet noodle. Being thickheaded and scatterbrained did have some attractive qualities on this level.  
  
It hadn't been all bad either. After two days of lessons, she found that their dreams started to overlap. It had been the first time she had ever been in a place so green and full of life. It had also been the first time she had been in a place so full of destruction. Memories of the SEEDS ship and July swirled around in his dreams and nightmares. They also saw how each perceived the other, without any of the bounds placed by etiquette or common sense. There were some things uncovered that were terrible and hurting, but what else was there was joyous beyond all description. Before, she would have given her life for him. Now, she would cling to life with unbridled ferocity just to get back to him, even clawing through hell if need be. There was also one other effect that emerged during one of their nightly rendezvous...  
  
She almost giggled right then and there at the memory, but a feeling ran down her spine, signaling that it was time. _"Let's see if all that pays off now..."_ There was a nice cup of water on the bedside table. She wasn't very thirsty. Maybe some of those sandwiches? They were salmon, his favorite. He had on that red coat again, and his old gun. He had retrieved them a while back. He also had that other gun, similar to his but a dull ruddy brown, nearly black. Maybe it had belonged to the man in the bed, with the piercing blue eyes. Blue like the sky, on the clearest days when you looked straight up...  
  
¤ ¤ ¤  
  
His dear brother was waiting. Even in the healing state, he had enough perception to know when he was around, but that was about it. He didn't really expect to have the luck to emerge when his brother would be absent, but emerging would give him considerably more resources to work with. It was a fair trade. The final cycles of the healing state expired, and he could awaken at any time. He would play it quietly to start with- information was top priority.  
  
He emerged and took over the simple task of breathing, taking care that there was absolutely no interruption. Taking advantage of the awakened senses, he smelled that his brother had company. Humans. How demeaning if Vash assumed that meeting humans would influence him in any way. He knew all he needed to know about humans from his Gung-Ho Guns, though his brother was incredibly thickheaded and kept missing their perfect lessons on the nature of humanity. He'd toy with these two, perhaps he could use them for another object lesson on the wretchedness of that pathetic species. Extending his mind out, he began to probe them, only to grow increasingly annoyed. Their minds were slipping away time and time again. Either their minds were too disorganized to allow them any semblance of thought, or...  
  
He let his eyes snap open. There was his brother, looking just as he did during their scuffle, both of their weapons trained at his head when they should have been pointed at those two _things_ that flanked him. He was even letting one of the spiders touch the arm he still had. Disgusting. "So, dear brother, I see you've taught your pets some dangerous tricks..."  
  
¤ ¤ ¤  
  
_"Don't notice it, Meryl..."_  
  
Hoping that his message made it, even with the substantial benefit of physical contact, he refocused on Knives. There was that smug look again. He was expecting a response, some tirade on the worth of humanity or whatnot that would do a grand total of nothing to his opinions. Instead, he just pulled back the hammers on both guns, noting how Knives' eyes widened a fraction.  
  
"Here's the deal, Knives. I want you to make me a promise."  
  
"A promise? Anything for you, brother."  
  
"I want you to travel around with me for a few months. During that time, I want you to promise that you'll just watch and listen. No fighting, no killing, no mind games."  
  
Knives' grin inverted itself. "You want me to journey around _humans_ without being able to protect myself? They're far too vicious."  
  
"I'll be all the protection you'll need. I'll kill if I have to."  
  
"And should I refuse?"  
  
"You hear what I said. I'll kill if I have to." He nudged the gun barrels to make the point crystal clear.  
  
Knives stared back at him for nearly a minute, their gazes matched in intensity.  
  
"Very well. However, I refuse to have those _things_ in the room while I sleep."  
  
Meryl's grip on his arm let up. Knives had withdrawn his mental probes for the time being. Now, they had one more matter to attend to. He nodded to Milly.  
  
"Mr. Knives?"  
  
Knives crossed his arms over his chest, not moving his gaze from an invisible point in the air over the bed.  
  
"Could you tell me anything about what happened to Wolfwood?"  
  
Knives shifted his gaze back up to meet his eye, giving him a 'Do I have to?' look. "Just answer the question."  
  
He turned to Milly, plastering a cheery expression on his face that was so fake that it made the malice underlying it blaze all the brighter. The movement was so fast that Milly made a little 'eep' noise.  
  
"He did what all of you creatures do- betray and destroy. I had finally rewarded his service with a name and a place in the Gung-Ho Guns, and he threw it all away. Worse, he caused his own teacher, Evergreen the Chapel, to rebel against me. Legato had to force Chapel to carry out my orders, then he had the gall to actually try and harm me! Thus, I crushed him like the worthless spider he was. It was such a nice name too- Nicholas D. Wolfwood, the Ringer of the Black Funeral Bell. Almost a whole breath of air wasted."  
  
Knives settled back, his smug look back in place. Milly had her hands balled up in fists as her eyes threatened to spill over. She started to hyperventilate. Meryl moved over to her side, and rested her hand on Milly's shoulder. At the touch, Milly jumped up and stalked out of the room, only to pause at the doorway and turn back to Knives, fury and sadness conflicting for space in her expression.  
  
"You shouldn't say such mean things! Nicholas was a wonderful man. I'm _never_ going to give you any pudding!"  
  
She whirled around and slammed the door behind her. A moment later, it opened slightly. "I'm sorry Mr. Vash, but he deserves it." Then the door slammed shut again.  
  
That had gone somewhat better than he had expected. Nearly anyone else would have suggested something highly creative, involving plucked-out eyeballs, boiling water, salt, vultures, and a multitude of sharp objects. Then again, no pudding was probably about as nasty a threat as Milly could muster. There wasn't enough room in her for anything nastier with that heart of hers. _"Wolfwood, you got a saint..."_ Then he noticed Meryl about to go into one of her rants, and ushered her out of the room, closing the door behind them.  
  
¤ ¤ ¤  
  
Well, looks like his brother had some skills. He was fairly sure the implied death threat was a gamble, but the doubt would not be expunged. Bluff or not, his brother had managed to get a promise out of him, and he had no intention of breaking it. He'd let Vash handle things his way for a time, hopefully with his own perspective there to expose the real motivations of the humans Vash would finally realize the truth. His dear brother was just a bit slow to catch on. However, if push came to shove, he wasn't about to let any human cause further harm to his brother, even if he had to break the promise. It was for his brother's own good, after all.  
  
At least he had the sense to make sure that the humans he kept were suitably harmless. The large one had no intelligence, with a distinct possibility of mental handicap. That one would be unlikely to pose any danger above a foot being accidentally stepped on. The other one appeared to be somewhat stunted in growth, undoubtedly due to neglect from incompetent parents, and would pose no physical danger without firearms. Unfortunately, she did carry a substantial arsenal. That one would require watching.  
  
Information and immediate action plan established, he extended out to feel the surroundings. One... Two... Three. Good. Still just as many as before. You couldn't trust humans with anything, especially after they lost something to you. He tried to move about, but discovered that his muscles needed a little more rest. Satisfied that he would be undisturbed, his let himself slip into true sleep with only a few triggers to wake him should the humans try anything.

* * *

I half made up Wolfwood's Gung-Ho Gun name, and half got it from a line from when he was fighting against Lenovf the Puppetmaster. As to why, well, just say it out loud! It sounds pretty good, at least to my ears. As for future story directions, our players are in position. The cue arrives next chapter, and that's when the act begins...  
  
**Reviewer Responses**  
  
Sorian: Heh, guess that means I have Vash down almost perfectly.  
  
Yma: I hope Knives lives up (or down) to expectations. It's not a nice place in his head. 


	6. Chapter 5: McMurdock and Flint Ltd

Today we're seeing a few new faces, though only as minor cogs in the big ol' plot machine. More good old Vashness too. On with the story!  
  
Disclaimer: /was AWOL/

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 5: McMurdock and Flint Ltd.  
  
There were three piles of stuff on the desk. The one to the right was items incoming that would need his attention. The one on the left were items outgoing that had received his attention. The one in the middle was a pile he looked at whenever he wanted to be reminded why the hell he bothered to move items from the right pile to the left pile. It consisted of letters of thanks, with the occasional 'Thank You' or 'You're a Pal' cards. It wasn't a very large pile, but it did mean a lot to him. It represented all the people who thought him, Samual L. Flint Jr., worthy of some small gesture of gratitude. Most never bothered to give him a second thought, just hoping that he'd use his pen to write an 'OK' on what they gave him in the right pile before moving it onto the left pile.  
  
Speaking of which, the next item on the right pile was a really thick one. He sighed. Matilda had probably gotten it mixed in with his normal things when it should have gone to Raymond across the hall. However, the address on it specifically indicated himself. He shrugged. It wasn't uncommon for someone who he had approved to try and send things by him again, but if they hadn't remembered to add at least a 'Thanks for looking' note he'd just pitch the whole thing across the hall into Raymond's office, where it'd vanish into the vast sea of junk the old McMurdock kept. That didn't mean it was lost, oh no- Raymond knew every pile of that room, and would instantly spot anything new.  
  
Tearing off the shipping wrapper, he noticed a strip of red cloth flutter down. It was quite bright, and fit nicely into his palm. He grinned a bit. Someone had done their homework- red was his favorite color. Deeming this item worthy of at least a dignified trip across the hall if it was going to take one at all, he pulled off the rest of the wrapper and started to read the note on top.  
  
_"Hiya Samual! It's been quite a while, but I remembered how much you liked the coat. It's Red No. 8 if you still want to get one like it, but for now here's a bit from mine. -V"_  
  
This was new. He certainly couldn't remember anyone's coat making much of itself recently. Turning the cloth over in his hand, it rippled a bit, and then he remembered. He had been only about nine or ten. Dad had only just joined with the McMurdocks to establish the company, and they still had to do all their own finances, which in this case meant a trip to the bank to get the payroll. He had been playing hide and seek with some other kid in the rock garden it had, boldly defying the little strip of black plastic that marked it off limits, when the Lawrence Gang burst in. He had damn near wet himself when they fired a few rounds into the roof. They hadn't been the best of outlaws, forgetting that the sheriff's was just on the other side of the street _and_ that a regiment of the Cavalry was in town. It quickly turned from a heist to a standoff, and he had been one of the hostages. Dad had somehow made it outside in the confusion, and he could see him out the window trying to get back to him but held back by the Cavalry.  
  
The only reason that he hadn't fallen apart right there was because of some idiot in red that was right next to him, bawling his lungs out and screaming for mercy as if _he_ was the scared kid and not some grownup until one of the Lawrences yelled at him to shut up. He mostly did, but kept on making quiet yet really annoying whines like some kicked cat until the same member had enough and made to punch him into a completely quiet state. What happened next was almost a blur. The fear the guy had vanished like it had never been there to begin with. There was a flash of silver, and the gang member when down with a thud. The guy rushed the rest of the outlaws and took down two more before the rest wised up and started shooting. The guy turned and ran back, screaming like he had seen a ghost while dodging wildly. The outlaws ended up shooting down the ropes that held up the lights, which then fell gracefully onto their collective heads. He grinned like a lucky goof and held up two fingers in a 'V'. That was when the Cavalry charged the building.  
  
The thomases battered through the front doors, windows, and weaker sections of the wall, including one that leaped in right at him. Everything seemed to slow down then, as the clawed foot came closer and closer through the air. Then there was a flash of red as something hit him from the side. Next thing he knew, he was outside, his hands with white knuckled grips on the red coat that guy was wearing. The guy gave him a smile, and said "If you like it so much, maybe you should get your own someday." Then his dad was hugging him and crying, asking if he was okay. It had been embarrassing, until the guy in red spoke up- "Don't be embarrassed kid, it just means your dad loves you." His dad thanked the guy profusely, but the guy just waved it off and turned to walk away. Dad made one more offer of thanks- "Hey mister! If you ever need to publish something, just send it to me, Samual L. Flint Sr. of McMurdock and Flint! I'll see that it gets to the shelves!"  
  
The guy in red waved back. "Thanks! I'll keep that in mind!" Then the guy was around the corner, and he never heard from him again.  
  
Until now. The piece of red cloth was rough in his hand. His dad had retired from the company some seven years prior, but he remembered the offer. And now, it appeared that he'd get a chance to fulfill that offer at long last, some twenty years after it had been made. He moved the note off the pile, and started to read the book. His eyes glanced across the title. Huh. Another biography on the infamous Vash the Stampede. One of these would appear from time to time, but most were just hearsay and none were worth printing. Then he saw the author.  
  
His eyes doubled back to the red cloth, the title, the author. A red coat. The rumors. Took down a whole gang right before his eyes. The book. It _couldn't_ have been _the_ Vash the Stampede! ...could it? That guy had been a simpering lucky idiot! However, he knew from seeing enough baseless articles just how much was really just rumors on rumors around the legend. Nobody really knew who Vash the Stampede was. But he might... It was sitting right there, a nice stack of typed paper. All he had to do was turn the page... He got up, and got himself a big pitcher of water and some rum. He had a feeling he'd need it.  
  
Sitting back down, he turned the page.  
  
¤ ¤ ¤  
  
Raymond liked to come in at 8 o'clock sharp. It was just a time like any other to most folks, but it was important to him. At 8 o'clock some forty years ago, he had run into the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. One thing led to another, and before he knew it she was his wife, now of thirty-nine years. Thus, he always made it a point to try and start things at 8 o'clock, no matter how odd it seemed to other folks. He knew it was his lucky time. He nodded to the inkers as he passed by their workshop on his way to the stairs that led up to the main offices. He hopped up them to mock the few whispers he heard that suggested he was getting old, and turned into the small disaster that was his office. He plonked down and started to rummage through the various books that were strewn around when he noticed that Samual was in his office across the hall. That was unusual- he didn't come in until around noon at the earliest most days. He hopped back up to see what had managed to get him up at this time.  
  
"Hey lil' Sammy! What brings you in at this hour?"  
  
Samual looked up from what he had been staring at. His eyes were thoroughly bloodshot, but not from the rum that sat next to him- it had hardly been touched. No, this was the bloodshot look of someone who got a good book and just couldn't put it down. For them, those were surefire signs of approval.  
  
"That good huh? Then stop hogging it and toss it here! I'll run it down to the setters and you can keep the first copy off the presses."  
  
"Actually, it's not that good."  
  
"What?"  
  
"The grammar is downright horrid in spots, the prose is uninspired for most of it, and it's riddled with spelling errors."  
  
"Then why is it still up here and not in file 13?" His foot tapped the trashcan.  
  
"Because this is a story that needs to be read. Look for yourself." Samual flipped the stack of papers over and spun them around for him.  
  
"The Life and Times of Vash the Stampede... by Himself?! Sure you didn't drink a bit too much? I've seen these things before, they're always fakes."  
  
"Oh, this one's the real thing." Samual flipped a little strip of red cloth, looking at it as if it was made of gold. "Trust me on this one Ray. This was written by Vash the Stampede, and everyone is going to want to read it."  
  
He had worked with both Samuals long enough to know that they had great judgment about these things. If Sam said it was going to sell, it was going to sell like hotcakes. It was part of how they had managed to become the biggest publishing company on Gunsmoke. "Then I'll run it on down to editing."  
  
"No, send it right to the setters. Don't change a letter."  
  
He nodded. "Your call Sammy. Why don't you run on home, you need to catch some sleep."  
  
"Good idea Ray, I've just got one stop before that."  
  
"What could be so important that it can't wait until after you're rested up?"  
  
Samual grinned, making the bags under his eyes scrunch up. "I've got to order a coat. Don't ask."  
  
¤ ¤ ¤  
  
It had been nearly three weeks since their household of three became a household of four. The fourth one didn't really count. To be a part of a household, there was a certain amount of interaction required, and the fourth 'member' fell far short of those requirements. Knives was driving her up the wall. He refused to eat anything that he didn't make himself. He refused to talk with anyone but Vash. He'd always keep one eye on her whenever they were in the same room- literally! One eye of his would always be staring right at her while the other would be looking in a completely different direction. The first time she noticed that she had nearly lept through the roof. Now she suspected that he was doing it just to annoy her. The books were the worst. One eye in a fixed glare on her, while the other scanned the lines normally. At least Vash was always around- he had managed to snare a job as a cook at the same diner where she worked as a waitress, so they were rarely apart. His presence definitely made tolerating his brother easier. Otherwise, she would have probably shot Knives someplace painful yet nonvital by now. Or possibly painful _and_ vital.  
  
Today had been fairly relaxing, since she didn't have to put up with Knives. He was busy fixing up an old truck Vash had pulled out of the desert, which seemed to be the only thing he was actually good for. It was already in nearly perfect running order, but that just wasn't good enough for Knives. He'd keep after it until it was absolutely perfect in every detail. As to why they needed a truck, she supposed that Vash was starting to get itchy staying in one place for so long. She made a note to keep from getting anything that would be hard to transport- not that she had the money to be splurging on luxuries. There was food on the table and a roof over their heads, and that was good enough. Any extra was put away for emergencies, and knowing Vash, there was plenty of opportunity for those.  
  
It was getting into early evening, and the town was starting to liven up as the temperatures dropped into more livable ranges. There was just a bit of a breeze blowing through the window that picked up as the evening wore on. She was enjoying the lassitude far more than she let on, but it stopped when a typhoon blew in the front door. Or rather, the humanoid equivalent. Vash was practically bubbling over with energy, engaged in a creating a horribly off key song based entirely around the words "It's here!"  
  
"Enough with the suspense. What's here?"  
  
"Fresh off the supply truck! The greatest story ever told!"  
  
He held up a book. Even from across the room, she could read the title. "So, you got it printed?"  
  
"Yeah! It's probably all over Gunsmoke by now! Now everyone will know the man behind the name!"  
  
"I'll listen for the laughter. In the meantime, Mr. Vash the Stampede..."  
  
She tossed an apron at him. "It's time that you got started on dinner."  
  
"But _snooky woogums_, I was hoping I'd get to enjoy reading it." He was giving her the eyes.  
  
"Of course you can- _after_ dinner. Now get in there before I snooky your woogums!"  
  
He tossed on the apron and dragged his feet towards the kitchen, shoulders hunched over, arms hanging limp. He made a few audible sniffles.  
  
"Well, if it means that much to you..." Vash practically sprang into his happy mode, all grins and sparkling eyes. "...I'll help you fix dinner."  
  
His features faulted right in front of her. He was just so cute when he did that. He had probably staged the whole thing- even now, the tit for tat was something they both still enjoyed, though they'd never voice it. She hopped up and gave him a peck on the cheek then turned him around.  
  
"Now march. One two one two!"  
  
He tromped off with her right behind.

* * *

Ah, so our favorite broomhead has contacts in the publishing biz. Would that we were so lucky. Tune in next time for Knives' reaction! You may want earplugs.  
  
**Reviewer Responses**  
  
Sorian: Phew. No flayings for me today!  
  
El Hustino: You mean there are folks who read it and make no notice that they did? Then there might be... /turns a light to the all-concealing shadows, sees hundreds of eyes/ YAA!  
  
SapphireWhiteTigress: There's going to be a lot more Milly down the road, so it's good I seem able to write her.  
  
Yma: Knives wasn't that hard- just imagine a ten-foot pole that's stuck... well, you get the idea. 


	7. Chapter 6: Moving Out

Whoo, short break this time, because I'm about to end up with a long break while I move _into_ the parent's basement. Ah, gotta love economics.  
  
Disclaimer: Money isn't everything, but it does help to have it.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 6: Moving Out  
  
He was surrounded by idiots. Spiders and idiots. His brother certainly took the lead this time- not only had he made a written record of his activities without any sort of encryption, but he actually _made it public_. He had actually gone to great lengths to insure that it would be widely disseminated into the general population! Worse still, Vash didn't leave out anything to safeguard his own brother's identity. Well, it was done, and he would just have to control the damage as best he could. Still, he would have to get Vash to halt these insanely bad schemes he would cook up in that too-little brain.  
  
At least the small pet spider agreed with him. It was, of course, for entirely the wrong reasons, not to mention the length of time it took for her to realize that she had been compromised by that book. It had taken prompting from her larger spider organization to make her realize, and of course the first thing she was thinking of was her own unimportant issues. Job loss, indeed. There would be much graver consequences, but the idea most likely was too complex for her inferior brain. At the very least, she should remain quiet- he wasn't voicing his concerns for the whole nest of spiders to hear. He would wait until only the bare minimum were in earshot, which would probably include the two females since dear brother wasn't about to abandon them like he ought to. He thought about snapping her vocal cords, but Vash would become agitated, and he still wasn't able to confront his brother just yet. Thus, he just tuned the babblings out like the random noise they were.  
  
¤ ¤ ¤  
  
"How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?!"  
  
"Start and I'll tell you when to stop."  
  
"I'm sorryI'msorryI'msorry.."  
  
Ooh boy, he'd done it now. Meryl was really angry with him this time. Things had been going great until that letter from Bernardelli arrived. It contained recall orders for Meryl but not Milly, along with specific instructions not to inform Vash the Stampede of the recall or to bring him along. Of course, between her habit of reading correspondence out loud, and since he had been right there when she opened the letter, he knew anyway. The letter made it quite clear that the company didn't approve of employees having personal relationships with disasters, no matter if they were ruggedly handsome ones like himself. Thus they were here, loading up the truck Knives had repaired to head to the nearest sand steamer route. She would take the steamer back to the head office while the rest of them would head towards Inepril City. It wasn't the best of circumstances to be parting under, but at least they'd be able to meet up again. Considering what the two of them had, he knew that if she had to choose, she would choose him over her job. Assuming he could grovel enough to work through her anger...  
  
She finally held up her hand and he took his mouth off autopilot. She still wasn't talking to him, ever since the initial outburst when she had quite a few choice words for him, several of which he was sure weren't in any dictionary. After that, she would just turn her nose up at him and make a loud "Hmph!" whenever he tried to start a conversation. Milly would just frown at them, which was somehow worse than if she had said anything about it. It was getting to both of them, hence their latest bit of interaction. It had barely been a full day since their spat started, and Meryl was already starting to soften up. Of course, the breakfast in bed, the laundry, the foot rub, and the loading he was doing for her right now might have also played a part, but they all fell far short of the effect Milly's frowns had.  
  
Then there was Knives. He wasn't saying a word about the book though he hung on to it at all times. There had also been the mysterious fire that burned all the other copies at the general store, and he knew Knives was somehow behind it. Unfortunately, the townsfolk didn't even suspect Knives, instead casting fearful glances at him if they dared to show up at all. He really should have specified that Knives wasn't supposed to be destroying property, but from the way Knives glared at the people he supposed that a few burned items was probably pretty good for his brother. At least the town wasn't a smoldering ruin yet, though Knives was running short of patience. It was just as well that they'd be on the move, the solitude of the desert would help replenish some of his brother's too-small reserve, and then Inepril should work wonders as the people there weren't absolutely terrified of the humanoid typhoon. Maybe Knives would finally get to see the good side of humanity.  
  
A clanking brought his attention back to the house they had shared for the past few months. Milly was bringing out the last of their possessions, and had 'Nicholas' slung across her back. As she turned from the door, her gaze met Knives'. They both stared for a second, then Knives broke it off with a turn of the head and a 'Hmph'. Despite the somber attitude that surrounded Milly at the moment, he cracked a faint inner smile at Knives' reaction. That head turn and 'hmph' had Meryl written all over them. He'd needle Knives about that once they split up, he was picking up things from the girls even if he didn't admit it. Milly came around to the back and stowed her burden, meaning they could leave at any time. Knives started for the front, but was cut off my Meryl.  
  
"Oh no you don't. You're riding in the back with the rest of the luggage."  
  
Knives just growled, and brought his hand back as if to slap her out of his way. He reached up and grabbed his brothers hand.  
  
"We'll just be catching up on old times in the back, you two can have the front."  
  
He pulled his brother up to the truck bed. Knives glared at Meryl one more time, then hopped into the back without further delay. He climbed up after him, then the truck doors slammed and the engine started up. They were off.  
  
¤ ¤ ¤  
  
It had been fairly quiet. There wasn't much traffic in or out of the town besides the supply wagon, so there was little demand for his services. He enjoyed the quiet- that meant the Typhoon hadn't started to blow down the area. Yet. Still, he wasn't about to rest easy until Vash the Stampede was gone. The fire that burned all the books on him at the general store was the first destructive thing he had heard of him doing since he blew into the town, but that somehow only made it all worse. What horrible atrocities had been in those volumes that made him have to destroy them? From the stories, probably plenty. He had to suppress a shiver that crept down his back.  
  
He heard an engine approach from the town center, and got up to the pump, ready to fill up whoever was about to leave. As the truck got closer, he could see that the Stampede's women were in it. Damn. Well, if they were going, he'd hurry them along. At least the Stampede wasn't with them. They pulled up next to the pump, and the short one just said "Fill it up." There was a hint of anger around her, so he hurried to stick the nozzle in the gastank and started the pump. It dinged every gallon as the tank filled, and he willed it to go faster. Then he noticed there was someone looking down at him from the truck bed. It wasn't the Stampede, but that was more the look he'd expect from the Stampede. Those cold blue eyes looked down at him with contempt, as if judging him unworthy of being under that gaze. He fidgeted nervously until the pump clicked off, then he read off the price without thinking.  
  
The small girl rapped on the back window of the truck cab. "Hey Vash! The money's back there!"  
  
Vash? _"Dammitdammitdammit!"_ The Typhoon was with them after all, just laying down in the back! He watched in horror as the Typhoon got up and rummaged through the bags then turned to him with a wad of double dollars.  
  
"Hey, aren't you the fellow I saw-"  
  
He panicked. "It's free! Just take it!"  
  
"Gee, that's awful generous of you mister. You sure?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
The Typhoon thankfully turned away from him and to the other man with the cold blue eyes. "See Knives? There are plenty of generous people in the world. Start it up ladies!"  
  
_"Knives?"_ He gulped. Figures that the Typhoon wouldn't have just anyone in his gang, but a name like that just begged for trouble. The truck roared to life and headed off, out of town towards LR. The other girl stuck her head and an arm out and waved goodbye to him with a giant smile on her face. The Typhoon had left, and he was still breathing. His hand shook as he replaced the nozzle then staggered back into the shade of the utility shed. He had managed to survive a meeting with the Humanoid Typhoon. "Thank you God!" he proclaimed, then promptly passed out under the shed's overhang.  
  
¤ ¤ ¤  
  
The town slipped over the horizon, indicating that they were safe for the moment. That last spider had shown proper subservience to them. He made a note that when he was finally able to kill him, he'd make it swift and painless. But for now, he was still bound by his promise to his brother, so it permitted it to continue living. There were other matters he needed to discuss with Vash. He brought out the book.  
  
"We need to talk."  
  
"Have you read it? What do you think? Quite the story, isn't it?"  
  
"You _idiot_!" he bellowed. "What were you thinking that possessed you to do something so irresponsible!"  
  
"Well if you don't like it, you don't have to read it! Give a guy a break!"  
  
He toyed with the idea of doing just that, but he didn't quite have the strength back to break any bones. Instead, he elaborated. "I don't care about reading your silly prattles. What I do care about is that you revealed to everyone just what we are! They're going to hunt us down, and you don't seem to realize just how much danger we're in!"  
  
"Actually, I do."  
  
_"What?"_ "Explain."  
  
"Some of them won't be able to leave the past behind. They'll come after us, but I'm not going to run. I'm all done with running. That's why I wrote that on the last page."  
  
He hadn't read that far in. Wondering what new level of idiocy his brother had attained, he flipped the book open and turned to the last page.  
  
_"If anyone still feels that I have to die after knowing my story, you can find me on top of the large mountain 15 iles south of Inepril City on the fourth day of Heat. I'll be waiting."_  
  
Something between a scream and a groan escaped his throat. He yanked Vash up by the collar, pain in the limbs be dammed. "Tell me you aren't actually going to do that! _Tell me!_"  
  
"Sorry brother, but as I said, I'm all done with running. Maybe they'll kill me, maybe they won't. I really don't know. But I'm going to face them. I'm tired of being hunted."  
  
He dropped Vash. This was too much, even for him. However, as he thought about it, the possibilities began to show themselves. Perhaps his brother had finally seen some of the truth he had been trying to teach him. Rig the mountain with explosives, and he could be rid of the most dangerous portion of his pursuers. There was certainly time to set the trap- they had nearly a full month. That still didn't excuse him from the other gross faults he had made, most glaringly the true nature of the plants. The spiders would bite now, sinking their fangs into his helpless sisters. Now that the truth was out, they'd be slaughtered as the spiders reacted out of fear at the knowledge of their own inferiority. Of course, they'd then die by the masses without the ability to suck off his race's lifeblood. It wasn't how he'd planned to eliminate the pests, but they'd be gone all the same. It was similar to how he had initially planned to dispose of them with the ship drop. He'd just have to scrap his plans to save at least a fraction of his sisters. Time was on his side again. He'd make this world a paradise yet, all for just him and his brother.

* * *

I hate to say it, but writing Knives is fun. Too bad the next chapter won't be involving him- we're going to follow Meryl. Joy! /sings Gir's Doom song/  
  
**Reviewer Responses**  
  
El Hustino: I rather like to jump into the bit players, mostly because it provides a new view of the characters. It makes the world more 'real', I think.  
  
Sorian: And after all that work, too. Poor Vash. He gets no breaks on my watch >:)  
  
Luna-Kitsune-Blu: You sound familiar. I think the Voices mentioned you at some point. The Voices mention lots of things. (Oh, and check out my other Trigun fic, it's more 'during' if you like that, if a bit short.)  
  
SapphireWhiteTigress: Yep, snooky woogums. I blame my semi-autonomous fingers. 


	8. Chapter 7: Parting Ways

As I write this, I have no method of posting it, being off in no-internet land and all. I'll see about fixing that...  
  
Disclaimer: Do not try and hack a connection, it's bad karma.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 7: Parting Ways

  
  
"_Dear_, you're making a scene."  
  
"But I don't want you to go!"  
  
How on Gunsmoke she had managed to get into this situation was beyond her. Well, not beyond, more like below... It had all started last evening.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
They had just gotten to LR when a familiar scent wafted over, making a stomach with arms and legs fall out of the back of the truck. Vash raced over to the doughnut stand, only to impact against the 'Sorry, we're closed' sign as it came down. After bouncing off the sign, he started to sniffle. It was at this point that Milly leaned over and grabbed the steering wheel, narrowly averting a collision with a Thomas train as an expletive floated down from the truck bed. Abruptly realizing that she had been driving, she slammed the brakes just in time to avoid ramming the front porch of the Rotten Luck Bar & Inn. Somehow, it seemed a fitting place for their motley crew. Droopy Vash seemed to agree, as he walked past their near-accident and into the bar, muttering about cruel fate and needing a drink. A pounding of the truck cab jolted her out of her frazzled state.  
  
"You wenches! Pay attention to what you are doing!"  
  
Oh, that was it. Somebody was going to get another hole in their body. Before she could pull out a Derringer, Milly was clutching her arm.  
  
"Don't prove him right Meryl."  
  
She sighed and parked the truck. When Milly was right, she was right. Much as she wanted to make Knives resemble swiss cheese, that wasn't the way to solve their problems. Besides, if that sand steamer further down was headed the right way, she'd probably be out of his sphere of annoyance by noon tomorrow. She hopped out of the truck and slammed the door, noting Knives' grimace as the vibration moved up his arm.  
  
"I'm going to see about getting a ticket. Milly, get us a room. And as for _you_..." She put on a big smile and changed her voice to a sickly sweet tone. "Watch the truck Knivesy-poo."  
  
His face ticked at that and a few onlookers snickered. _"Score one for the insurance girl."_ As she walked off towards the steamer, her smile had taken on some genuine quality. It took on more when she heard Knives bellow 'Stop staring at me!' behind her.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
The ticket was in hand, departure was at 10 am sharp, and this time she was traveling first-class courtesy of an unknowing loan from Vash. However, that still left her with one little problem. When she had asked Milly to get them a room, Milly did just that- got them _a_ room. As in one room. There was only one bed in the one room, and there were four of them. While she had started an argument with Vash over who was going to get the floor, she missed seeing Knives smoothly pick up the room key, enter their room, and then snap the lock- leaving the rest of them in the hall. The three of them were motionless as the act sunk in, then the next instant she and Vash were pounding on the door.  
  
"Let us in you jerk!" "C'mon bro, open up!"  
  
He responded to one of them. "Of course brother, but you'll have to leave your pets out there. I said before that I wouldn't permit them to be in the same room as myself while I slept, but you can certainly come in. I'll even let you have the bed."  
  
She was about to order Milly to blow the door down with her stungun when Vash cut the whole thing short.  
  
"Fine. I guess you can keep the bed, since if they can't come in I'm not coming in either."  
  
She heard the key clatter on the floor. Evidently Knives hadn't expected that one, but he didn't let it get into his voice. "As you wish, brother."  
  
That seemed to be the end of that. Vash turned to her, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish look. "Heh, guess we'll have to make do with the truck."  
  
They started down the hall. Milly darted ahead of them. "I'll get everything ready!" Then she was gone down the stairs with a bit of a giggle. It was then that she asked the question that was nagging her.  
  
"Why are we just walking away? He should be the one sleeping in the truck, not us! We're going back to reclaim our room, even if we have to break down the-"  
  
Vash had grabbed her elbow as she turned around. He was looking at her without any of the moods he'd hide behind, something he only did for her and no one else. "Just leave him be. He doesn't know any better yet. Besides, its not like we've spent the night in worse places."  
  
That was certainly true. Third-class steamer tickets placed you about one step below the first-class freight, and they had rarely been able to get above third-class- not to mention the Thomas stables, or the crawlspace, or the one time she had found Vash stuck in a trashcan for a nap, or the outhouse... Her nose wrinkled at the memory of that night. Their own truck was actually pretty good compared to quite a few of the places they'd taken in the past. She sighed in defeat and let Vash steer her out of the building and to the alley where they had parked the truck. Milly was already sleeping, sprawled across the driver and passenger seats, wrapped in enough blankets that the only way she could tell it was Milly was by the mass of hair sticking out one end. That meant they were stuck with the truck bed. Vash hopped up and pulled her up after him. The wind picked up a bit, sending enough cold to bite even through her cloak. Vash rummaged a bit, then gave a nervous laugh.  
  
"What's wrong now?"  
  
"Well... We seem to only have one blanket." He held it up- it was the best one they had, but it was still just one. "You can take it, I'll be fine." Vash tossed it to her, then huddled in amongst their bags. She wrapped herself up, then noticed Vash's leg shiver. If it hadn't been practically under her nose she would have missed it. This just wouldn't do at all. Hell, it was probably why Milly had just left them one blanket. Sometimes that girl was scary with her plans, they always seemed to work. She loosened the blanket, letting out a hiss as the cold air crept in.  
  
"Get in."  
  
Vash just looked at her and blinked.  
  
"Yes, _you_."  
  
That was all the prompting it took. He slid in under the blanket, and the cold that had crept onto his clothes started to spread. Now it was her turn to shiver, at least until there was enough heat generated between them to banish the cold to the outside. Ironic, really- you'd fry in the day, and freeze at night. Just another wonderful benefit of living on a desert planet. Vash yawned, stretched, and smoothly brought his arm back down under her shoulders. She smirked and rolled over so she was half on top of him, shifting slightly to avoid the spots that concealed the more grievous of his scars. He actually made a fairly good mattress. Then his other arm came up and began to creep down her side, so she have him a kick.  
  
"None of that tonight."  
  
He chuckled and brought the arm back up to the safe zone across her back, then directed his gaze up. She turned her head to follow his gaze, and saw the stars high above between the buildings. They laid like that for a minute.  
  
"You know..." he started, "...I kind of wish this night would never end."  
  
She didn't bother turning to look at him, instead continuing to peer at all the distant points of light. His body was really warm, forming a stark contrast to the air on her face, and his breath kept a steady series of frosty plumes going up towards the sky. She simply said, "I agree." Then she shifted again, placing her cheek against his chest, letting the beats of his heart lull her to sleep.  
  
They dreamed of endless fields of grass and trees, and of running along to someplace, anyplace. The destination didn't matter, just that they were going there together. Thus it was that two souls found a fragment of paradise, tucked away in a cold dark alley behind the Rotten Luck Bar & Inn, in the middle of a world of endless desert while the stars shined down from above.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
However, all good things pass, and morning came. Vash pulled a technicality on Knives that got them back into their room ("You said they couldn't come in while you were asleep- you're not asleep now, are you?") and to the attached bathroom for a good morning self-cleaning. Breakfast came next, with three of them enjoying a good meal courtesy of the inn, and a sourpuss enjoying an emergency ration bar out in the truck. By then it was time for her to get to the steamer, so she gave Vash a goodbye hug- except he didn't quite get the concept of 'release'. Thus it was that she was going to the steamer, with a blubbering mass of flesh attached to her ankle. She dragged it foreward every other step, ignoring the looks the other townsfolk and steamer personnel were sending. However, upon reaching the ticketmaster, she had to deal with it.  
  
"Good day ma'am. I take it you only have one ticket?"  
  
"Gee, however did you guess?" The sarcasm was dripping faster that the tears on the flesh-mass' face.  
  
"I could get a crowbar..." The man gave her a wry grin. She returned it.  
  
"That sounds fairly good. Get two, I'll pry, you hit."  
  
The flesh-mass spoke up, or whined up as the case may be. "I can't believe you'd be so cruel!"  
  
"Sorry, rules are rules. I can't bring you along. Besides, don't you have someplace to be going as well? And I don't think you want to be acting like this around your brother."  
  
"Huh?" He jumped up and looked around. Sure enough, Milly and Knives were coming to send her off. They passed through the crowds easily, since Knives was shooting icy stares at anyone who invaded his personal space. And since this was Knives, 'personal space' meant pretty much everywhere. He had it up to a good five yarn radius by the time the two of them arrived. Vash and Milly held up for a few seconds, then they both broke down. Knives just looked up, as if by ignoring the scene made it cease being real. In another second, Meryl found herself sandwiched between the two weepy companions.  
  
"For the love of... Will you two show some backbone?!"  
  
Milly bucked up and did as commanded. Vash claimed to be an invertebrate, so she yanked her arm free.  
  
"Milly, I'm counting on you to keep these two out of trouble until I get back. Don't let them give you the slip, and don't forget to send in the reports as usual. This is your first solo assignment, so do your best and make me proud!"  
  
Milly nodded and smiled, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve. "You can count on me Meryl! I won't let you down!"  
  
"And as for _you_..."  
  
Vash looked up. He was giving her the eyes again.  
  
"If I hear you've been giving Milly any problems, there won't be a place on the planet safe for you." Then she leaned over and whispered in his ear. "I'll miss you too."  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
She kept waving as the town slipped over the horizon. She had half expected them to try some foolish stunt to stowaway on the steamer, which was part of why she had stayed up on deck until now. The main reason was just that she wanted to. Milly and Vash had been flapping their arms hard enough that she was almost positive she'd seen them lift off the ground. If there was ever a synchronized waving contest, those two would win for sure. Knives had actually waved goodbye too, though the creepy smile added a 'and don't come back' to the unspoken goodbye. He seemed utterly hopeless, but then again, so did Vash. The reasons were completely different. It was hard to picture them as brothers. However, they weren't her concern for now. She retired to her cabin as the midday suns began to beat down.  
  
She popped open her luggage and got out the various papers and other items of her trade. There was going to be trouble when she got back to the main office, and being unprepared would just make things worse. She slid a fresh sheet into the typewriter and began to peck away at the keys. Midway through the pile, a noise made her jump, but it was only a lizard that had fallen out of the duct. She was about to pitch it out to the folks outside and say it was a mobile snack, when she stopped. She considered it for a moment, then set it down next to the typewriter.  
  
"You just stay there. I'll let you off when we reach December. You should consider yourself lucky, I'd have tossed you out without another thought just a few months ago."  
  
She shook her head. _"Guess I'm just getting soft."_ The lizard actually did stay put, and when they reached December three days later she bid farewell to her odd little roommate. The city beckoned before her, and she set out.

* * *

...to face your _destiny!_ (/Vader) Sorry, sorry, I had to make the pun. Anyway, there's another fluffy chapter for you. Next time, it's Meryl Vs. The Uncaring Bureaucracy. Let's hope she doesn't hurt them too badly.  
  
**Reviewer Responses**  
  
Can't get to any dang reviews due to aforementioned lack of internet. I'll pick it up next chapter. Oh well, double the chapters, double the update, double the goodness! ¤prepares an inflatable Vash to serve as a distraction/escape facilitator should glomping occur¤ 


	9. Chapter 8: Bad to Worse at Bernardelli

Still in no-net land, or was at the start of this chapter. The situation changed midway through, as the onlineness of the chapter would suggest. Guess that's all for now.  
  
Disclaimer: Spider-man doesn't get good connection speeds despite what you'd think.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 8: Bad to Worse at Bernardelli

  
  
First things first. The small apartment she kept in town was the ideal place to freshen up prior to going to the main office. However, the door wouldn't open, calling for repair procedure #1. A good solid shoulder slam later, she was inside among the massive pile of mail that had built up over the months. She poked at it idly- first notice, second notice, first notice, past due, pay up or your kneecaps are ours... That last one may be worth reading after her main business was finished. However, right now, her business was all about preparing for her main business, and that meant the bed. The steamer had pulled in as the suns set, and by the time she had made it across the city the streetlights were all the illumination left. It was clearly bedtime for all sane people.  
  
Left side. No good. Right side. No good. Back, belly... No and no. Sleep was being more elusive than normal tonight. She put it down as a case of nerves. It was still quite odd- this was _her_ bed, in _her_ room, and instead of dropping right asleep she was instead staring at _her_ ceiling. Maybe a change of view would help. She got up and truged about the apartment. As she did, something emerged. The kitchen was well stocked, the bed had been neatly made, the bathroom was clean, and the closet had all the supplies she required. However, there was nothing to indicate that it was a _home_. No pictures, no knickknacks, not even a favorite coffee mug. It was a great place to rest and do work, but not to live. It was funny how she hadn't noticed that before... Tomorrow, she'd get something to spruce it up. But for now... Sleep came before gravity finished placing her on the bed.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
The office building loomed overhead. She was positive that it hadn't been this tall when she left. It was probably an aftereffect from running around so many small burgs, coming back to one of the great cities made it seem all the more grand. It was rather busy all in all, the constant hustle of people coming and going generating a din. The snippets of conversation she picked up weren't encouraging. There was a tremendous interest in life insurance among the people streaming in and out, among talk of entire town populations simply vanishing into thin air. It was old news to her, and the cause had been dealt with. Well, it was being dealt with- hopefully Milly was keeping tabs on Knives, and Knives was still on holiday from destruction and chaos. Somehow, she doubted it would make any of the bustle go away if they knew. She slipped into the flow and made it past the sales area to inform the personnel receptionist that she had arrived, then zipped up two flights of stairs to the employee lockers. She was changed and out in under three minutes, enjoying the relative lightness of the company uniform. It was a bit unsettling to be without the familiar weight of her derringers, but that was why the company had armed guards down below.  
  
A few twists and turns later, the door to the claims office stood before her. She could hear a lot of talk going on behind the door- looks like downstairs wasn't the only place busy these days. She gave the handle a good crank and entered. The noise level dropped dramatically as eyes wandered over to her. The boss was outside his office and appeared quite impatient, so she slipped on over. As she passed her co-workers, she heard whispering and felt every eye in the place looking at her while trying not to look at her.  
  
"...looks all right..."  
  
"...do you think he..."  
  
"...heard she joined..."  
  
"...still sane?"  
  
By the time she made it across the room, she had quite enough of it. Turning, she got the entire place in a glare.  
  
"Don't you have work to do?!"  
  
The entire room jumped at that, and started to frantically make themselves busy. They were still casting glances her way. If they didn't get the real story from listening against the door, they'd get it from her own mouth when she told the lot of them off afterward. Turning in a huff, she stormed into her boss's office and almost bowled over Mr. Bernardelli himself.  
  
"We need to talk Ms. Stryfe."  
  
She gulped and plastered on a smile. "H-hello Mr. Bernardelli. I didn't expect to see you for this..."  
  
"I felt a need to be here in person. This is hardly a normal situation. Please, have a seat."  
  
She took the seat he gestured at. He then tapped a book- _the_ book -that was lying on the desk. "So, Ms. Stryfe, from what you know... How much of this is true?"  
  
"Well, I haven't actually read it myself, but from what I know of the author it would be nothing less than the full and complete truth."  
  
"I see..." He walked over to the window and gazed out at the street below, and then up at the sky. "You've always been a very good field agent. Spot on assessments, an ability to practically smell fraud, and some of the most orderly reports to ever cross my desk. You're in the running to be the next VP of Training, did you know?"  
  
"WHAT?!" The exclamation was echoed by at least two other voices outside. Now she was really feeling frazzled, as was whoever was eavesdropping. Her, a vice-president in the company? Milly kept saying that they would probably get promotions for their work, but this was far and above anything she had dreamed.  
  
"The entire assignment to follow and limit damages caused by Vash the Stampede was simply an elaborate test. We paired you with a... how should I put this... 'marginal' employee, to see if you could get them to improve. We never thought-"  
  
"Milly was just a test for me?! I thought she was supposed to provide key assistance for the assignment!"  
  
"Well, yes. You actually worked a miracle with that girl- she's writing average reports now. Still a bit simplistic and gullible, but she's become good enough to merit her own assignments which was far beyond anything we had expected from her. But I digress."  
  
This was definitely a mixed pill to swallow. She thought Milly was there as added muscle to create a well rounded team, not a Thomas to teach tricks. These people had no idea just what that girl could do. _"'Marginal' employee, pfft. She's damn good, and now I'll have to hurt you for saying otherwise."_ However, she was still in the hotseat, and bit her tongue to avoid tossing more gas on the fire.  
  
"We never meant for you to actually catch up with the Humanoid Typhoon, much less make contact. I'm afraid you've paid the price for our misjudgment of your abilities. Ever since you met him, your reports have become increasingly erratic."  
  
"Erratic? I'm afraid I don't follow, I've been reporting as normal-"  
  
"You've been reporting fantasy, just as much as this book is. Walking one hundred thirty plus year old plants, a twin brother that just happens to be the real cause of all this grief, a cadre of brutal assassins that were the actual killers. It's unbelievable! The only part that seems remotely possible is the mental abilities mentioned, which actually explains everything else. Insert a false memory here, create a seeming real illusion inside a mind-"  
  
"NO!" She bolted out of the chair. "Vash would never do that! There's no way he would toy with anyone's memories like that!" Tears began to well up.  
  
"Can you be sure? How would you know if your memories were tampered with? How could you know that he hasn't been in your head?"  
  
"I..." How could she explain? She sank back into the chair as she tried to find the words. "I just know that he's really a good man... There's too much beauty in his mind for him to be anything else..."  
  
"In his mind? You mean that he has used mental connections on you?"  
  
Her gaze shot to the company president's face. "It's not what you think! I had to learn how to guard myself from his brother! That's the only reason he made the connection!"  
  
"What I think is actually irrelevant at this point... but you may have just saved yourself. Thanks to a few recent discoveries on telepathy combined with your own admission, we may be able to get you out of this mess. However, right now there's not much I can do. I'm very sorry Ms. Stryfe."  
  
This was all wrong. Vash was a good man- plant- whatever! How could they stand there and condemn him without ever meeting him? Her mouth opened and closed, but what could she say? They thought she had not only been brainwashed, but dried, pressed, folded, and placed in the Humanoid Typhoon's clothes drawer. She just dropped her head in her hands. She felt one huge headache coming on, and it appeared that the day was still before noon. She heard the door open, so she plastered on the best stoic expression she could manage though she was falling apart inside.  
  
A face she didn't recognize entered the office. He looked very grim, an effect made more pronounced by the sidearm he had, the two other men with sidearms that stood in the doorway, and the shiny sheriff's badge on his vest. One of them looked scared out of his boots, and the other looked... murderous. What was a sheriff doing here with men like that?  
  
"Ms. Meryl Stryfe?" His voice was neutral.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
He held up a paper. She could see the official seals easily enough, and was actually quite familiar with what those seals meant- it was an arrest warrant. "By the authority of the Gunsmoke Justice Department, I am placing you under arrest on charges of conspiracy, obstruction of justice, aiding and abetting a known criminal, murder, and a high crime against humanity- genocide. You have the right to remain silent, anything..."  
  
She didn't hear the rest of what he said. The blood in her veins was running ice cold. Breathing was taking far too much effort. What was happening? Why was this happening? A hand on her shoulder brought her back to reality. Mr. Bernardelli was looking at her with a bare hint of a smile- A pity smile. She didn't want that. She hadn't done anything to deserve that...  
  
"Don't worry Meryl. We'll have the very best lawyers and psychologists to get you through this. The charges are mostly hearsay anyway. Bernardelli always looks after its own, though right now it's out of my hands. Just hang in there."  
  
"Mr. Bernardelli, I have a job to do, so please stand back. Ms. Stryfe, stand up slowly and face the wall."  
  
She did as she was told, moving like a marionette. There wasn't anything she could do, really. She was unarmed, and these were lawmen. Outlaws she could fight, but this was the law. The patdown was fast, then they moved her arms behind her and she heard the clicks of handcuffs snapping shut. She couldn't feel a thing anymore, and when she tried to walk her legs buckled underneath her. The lawmen had to pick her up and haul her off by the shoulders. Focusing everything she had, she forced her legs to work again- she would walk out under her own power to maintain at least some dignity. Everything was hard to do- she must look like a zombie to everyone. Her eyes blankly flitted over the main claims room- everyone was frozen in place, looking at her somehow even if they were faced the wrong way. Fear, anger, pity... Why did they look at her that way? They were co-workers, several were good friends... _So why did they look at her like that?_  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
The whole place smelled of cement dust. The harsh unshaded lights above burned like the suns against her clammy skin, in the few places that weren't covered by the black and white striped prison jumpsuit. The echos of footsteps made a horrible din, like a room full of clocks with no way to get out. Only her escorts made the noise- they hadn't let her wear any shoes. All she had was the jumpsuit and a small bundle of cloth clutched in her hands- her assigned bedsheet. They were leading her down a corridor in the maximum security wing of the December prison and cold sleep confinement complex. The two wardens that flanked her kept a vigilant watch as they moved deeper into the building. They finally stopped in front of a heavy metal door that one of her escorts tugged open.  
  
"Inside."  
  
She mutely walked in, and the door clanged shut behind her. The echo died down quickly in the tiny cell. There was a bunk, a toilet, a faucet, and another harsh light in the ceiling. It appeared to be completely welded shut aside from the door and a small vent therein. She heard the footsteps depart, getting farther and farther away, until another clang signaled the exit of the posse. The silence was beating down on her. She was finally alone, and allowed herself to slump against the door, then slide to the floor. The tears she had been holding back for seeming ages were finally allowed to spill. She sobbed silently into the bedsheet, only making a sound when she gasped for air, until sleep took her away from her troubles, to the barren embrace of blissful unknowing.

* * *

...dang, I'm hellah depressed now. Poor Meryl. Not even Mr. T and Optimus Prime bobbleheads could rip me out of this funk. Guess I'll just have to sleep it off.  
  
Knives: You know, this is a perfect example of why humans are such despicable creatures.  
  
Hey! No breaking of the fourth wall! Get back in there, you're not even supposed to be in this chapter!  
  
Wolfwood: Yeah, well, he's not good at following rules.  
  
And you're not to be appearing at all! Get back in your grave! Don't make me use the stick!  
  


**Reviewer Responses**

  
  
Yma: Whoo-hoo! I'm flattered, it's not every day that someone adds me to a favorites list (think the name has anything to do with it? Nah...)  
  
coffeetin: Well, there's Bernardelli, and things didn't exactly go over well. I do try and get the small touches in, they seem to provide the best parts in my writing, and they have a tendency to grow and expand.  
  
Luna-Kitsune-Blu: Yep, can't trust those voices farther than you can throw them, and I'd say that it smells like roses.  
  
SapphireWhiteTigress: Oh yeah, it's interesting. Expect to see a lot of it, and a few quotes from it (Hint: You should already know a lot of the quotes. Vash's words -)  
  
Sorian: I somehow doubt that opinion will change after this chapter. What can I say? Guess I'm just good at evil >:) 


	10. Chapter 9: A Quick TuneUp

Ah, back in the saddle again... It feels good, real good to be able to surf the net again! ...I'm bored...  
  
Disclaimer: Things seem much cooler when you don't have them.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 9: A Quick Tune-Up

  
  
A sand lizard's life was usually one of long quiet times interspersed with moments of supreme panic. It was actually rare for one to die at the hands of a predator- their little hearts would simply quit before a killing blow landed. However, ever since the sky was streaked with lights many seasons ago, a new threat had arisen. Large, fast moving creatures that would barrel down upon them in moments to smash them between the ground and their curious round feet. Much like that one that was barreling down at this particular lizard that just wanted to warm up for some midday hunting. It was too fast to dodge, as the information began to work through its small cluster of brain cells. However, this time the inevitable 'thump-squish' was averted as the massive creature dodged aside at the last moment, instead merely spraying a shower of sand over the lizard that had just realized it should be panicking. Then the large creature was gone, and it went back to sunning itself, forgetting about the whole incident.  
  
This is how fate works.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
"You nearly wrecked us over a lizard."  
  
It was in the form of a question, but the speaker wasn't one to ask questions, so it was merely a statement. It was a shame really, if you didn't ask, how could you learn? Maybe if he asked questions more often, he would have turned out better. There was a lot of work to be done before he would understand...  
  
"Well, I couldn't just run the poor little guy over!"  
  
Milly backed him up. "That's right! I'd feel just terrible if I ran over something."  
  
Knives let his frown deepen as he glared back at Milly through the small rear window of the truck cab. "Well, if you do it again, try to swerve a little harder. Maybe we'll lose some useless baggage."  
  
Milly either missed the implication or just let it roll off her back, just as she had the last five times Knives alluded to dumping her in the middle of the desert. Meryl would have gotten into a shouting match with Knives hours ago, but with the only human around being Milly, Knives' barbs lost their point. That didn't stop him from trying. It was probably the right time to reveal his own set of barbs.  
  
"You know, you sure do act a lot like Meryl."  
  
"How dare you compare me to _them_!"  
  
Ooh, good snarl. He'd have to poke that spot a few more times. However, something else came to notice that required a slight shift in topic. "So, brother-"  
  
"Be quiet. You make a fool of yourself every time you open your mouth, so you ought to leave it closed."  
  
"But this might be important..."  
  
Knives shut his eyes and let out a measured sigh to indicate that it had better be of importance. "Speak."  
  
"Why's the steering wheel like that?"  
  
Knives glanced over at the offending piece of equipment, and appraised it silently. "You warped the steering or suspension with that stunt of yours. Stop so I can assess the damage."  
  
He brought the truck to a standstill, noting that it wobbled like a drunkard as he slowed. That couldn't be a good sign. Knives was soon under the truck, so he sat on the driver's seat with the door open and his legs splayed out towards the ground. The suns were cut off as a large figure leaned over the cab with a sandwich in hand. "Eat up Mr. Vash! Meryl would have a fit if she found out that I wasn't taking care of you."  
  
He took the offering with a smile and thanks. Mmm, salmon... He took a huge bite out of it, then began to choke on it when he tried to swallow. Luckily, the canteen was already dangling down from above. "Really now, you should chew your food thoroughly. Pudding?"  
  
He accepted both with gratitude. He let the hand with the pudding cup dangle down while he cleared the blockage of fish and bread with the canteen. Unfortunately, the mass got stuck again further down, and he dropped the pudding while pounding his chest to get things moving again. He peered down, but the cup was gone. Come to think of it, so was Knives.  
  
"I don't see why you make such a big deal over this. Low nutritional value, and the taste is unrefined."  
  
Knives was on the other side of the truck, pudding in hand and half eaten. That prickling feeling that he got whenever trouble was about to start was back. Milly stood up in back, frowning as she got a bit puffy. "That's _not_ for you."  
  
"Well, brother had difficulty maintaining his grip, and I was curious. Besides, I do not take orders from a _human_."  
  
Milly hopped out and glared at him. Knives moved back a few inches, then returned the glare with redoubled intensity. Milly didn't budge. "Mr. Knives... You are _not_ a nice person!" She then turned and strode to the back of the truck with arms crossed and nose up. Knives twitched slightly, then his frown became twisted with anger and he reached after her. "I did not dismiss you yet!"  
  
At that point, a series of events took place. The truck wheels dug a little more into the sand on one side, causing a change in the tilt of the truck bed. This in turn caused the various items stowed there to adjust their positions to form a new equilibrium with the downward acceleration. One item didn't regain an equilibrium, instead just growing progressively worse as it tilted further, gaining momentum. It then met the retaining wall of the truck, but a combination of height and a high center of gravity caused it to flip over the wall instead of being retained. The end result of all this was that Knives ended up with a Cross Punisher on his foot.  
  
"Ahh... It hurts!" Knives fell onto his back, clutching his foot. "It hurts! It hurts!"  
  
He jumped up, but Milly was faster. By the time he had rounded the truck, she already had his boot off and was inspecting the limb for damage. "It looks okay, but let me-"  
  
"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Knives practically yanked his foot out of her hands and scrambled back. Milly just froze, her expression moving from surprise to concern to sadness. She picked up the cross and placed it back in the truck bed, then walked around to the other side without a word. "What are you doing brother, get over here now!"  
  
He jumped back into the moment, and went to check the foot himself. Nothing was broken, though it would undoubtedly be tender for some time, and a bruise was forming. He said as much to Knives, who had propped himself against the front wheel.  
  
"Be faster next time. You did break the suspension, so we will need to stop at a service station, the sooner the better. We don't have the materials for a repair without undue energy use."  
  
"Ah man... Where are we going to find a town out here?"  
  
"That way," came a voice from above.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Milly was pointing off to the left of the way they had been heading from a vantage point on top of the cab. "I can see a plant over that ridge."  
  
Leave it to Milly to do something as simple as climbing on top of a truck to try and find a town, and then actually find one. Her voice lacked its usual cheer. He slapped up his happy mask and announced "Well then, we had best be off!" Inside, though, he couldn't help but think that Knives had finally managed to get to Milly. His brother was going to need a lot of help, and the true magnitude of the effort was starting to manifest. However, right now, he'd just have to coax the truck into town before something important fell off. A few bounces and door slams later, they were skidding over the sand in the direction of the town.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
"You know, I think I've been here before."  
  
"With how you wandered about with the spiders, I'd think you'd have been to every nest by now."  
  
"No, I mean recently."  
  
"Well, the sign says Warrens City. Any information you can recall would be helpful."  
  
"Warrens... Warrens..." He remembered, and a grin spread. "Yeah, I have been here! The people know me, I'm something of a local hero. Stopped a bank robbery and got a real party going!"  
  
"So you stopped a spider from feasting off its fellows and your act of generosity was so astounding to their minds that you were elevated to a position of worship. Fitting."  
  
"Aw, Knives... You're not even trying."  
  
"But I am. They are still alive, aren't they?"  
  
"Yeah yeah, big thanks for not searing them with a magnifying glass."  
  
He left out one little detail about his last visit. Knives would go ballistic if he knew about how he had lent his angel arm gun to the local gunsmith for a tune-up. He could already hear the screaming about irresponsibility and foolishness, which would only make his just-formed plans to get _both_ of the guns tuned up send the screaming to a new level of cacophony. Therefor, he would dump Knives at the local inn where he could remain happily locked up in a room until his own end was finished getting everything fixed up.  
  
It actually went even more smoothly than he had hoped. Knives practically jumped at the chance to spend a while cooped up in a room by himself, having snatched the key out of his hand and vanishing up the stairs before the proposal was finished. Than left him and Milly with the run of the town. First things first- he was going to gorge himself silly at the bar. He burst in with Milly in tow. "Grandma, bring on the grub!"  
  
A loud clang halted his latest quest for the perfect meal, as his head stopped rattling from the flying pan that had impacted it. "I mean, could I please have the house special ma'am?"  
  
"That's more like it. I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever come back." Her gravely yet friendly voice was bemused as she set out a plate for him. He noted that the gun she had mounted on the wall was still well polished. A nice pile of steaming, er, something was set out before him. Whatever it was, it smelled great, so he dug in without further ado as the old barlady got another plate read for Milly. "Goodness, are you a traveling priest now?"  
  
"Oh no, I'm still in insurance! I just take it with me."  
  
"Well, just so long as you aren't still getting mixed up with bank robbers. We had someone with a cross just like that pass through about a year ago. That wasn't a man you'd soon forget, especially since he was carrying around your friend's gun."  
  
"Yeah, he wasn't someone you'd ever forget..."  
  
Being a barkeeper, the old lady knew every sign of a sad story being dug up, so she let the matter drop and returned her attention to her other customer. "So, It's been what, nearly three years Vash?"  
  
He choked on his food. He pounded his chest a few times to get it moving again as the old lady laughed and bent over to find something under the bar. She came back up as the food finally went down, and plopped a book in front of him- his book. "You never gave your name, but it wasn't too hard to figure out after reading about your meeting and thoughts with Marlon in here. For the record, that coward of a bank robber was more a legendary outlaw than you'd ever be, at least as this lady sees it."  
  
He resumed his gorging, speaking through the food. "Uh, thanks, I guess. Was that a complement?"  
  
"Take it as you will. So, I take it you're back to see Frank Marlon for yet another tune up?"  
  
"Oh yeah! I need my guns in the best shape possible. Wouldn't want a stray shot hurting anyone."  
  
"Well, let me say that you've got your work cut out for you. Bounty hunters the world over are heading for Inepril. There's been a nearly nonstop flow of them through this town, not to mention what it's like on the steamers."  
  
"Aw man..."  
  
"Well, it's not like you weren't asking for it. Marlon's got a new place- he's gone back to being a gunsmith, but he won't make them for just anyone like the old days. He's been asking every customer what they intend to do with what he makes them, and if he doesn't like the answer, then it's a no-sale. You can find him on the west side of town."  
  
He nodded thanks, having just stuffed his cheeks so full that there was hardly any room for breathing, let alone words. A mighty gulp later, he was finished and turned to go. "Alright! That really hit the spot! Thanks for the food ma'am!" The frying pan came down again. "Not so fast. Twelve double dollars."  
  
"But I'm the town hero!"  
  
"Yeah, you are, one of the heroes out of nearly the whole town. And since we're all equals in heroism... Twelve double dollars."  
  
He fished out the money and paid the lady. _"There truly is no such thing as a free lunch."_  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
Business was so-so. Plenty of customers out for a legendary Frank Marlon Special, but not a one actually worthy of having one. Dang bounty hunters. Some of the offers had been beyond generous, but money was no motivation for him. If anything, it was a discouragement. Desire for money had taken something important beyond words from him, and he was thus immune to the allure it held for so many men. Happiness can't be bought, nor could souls taken by the reaper. It was the rare man that walked in and could walk out with one of his guns these days. Thus, he was putting a lot more care into the few that he made, trying to make the weapon almost a part of the one who carried it. He had a small collection of news articles of events where his guns had been used to protect people, to help the innocent. A fair number came from one couple that had gone on to join the Cavalry and make quite a name for themselves with heroic deeds and general do-goodery- it was in part payment since they hadn't been able to offer much when they first came. But he had see it in their eyes, the desire to make the world better, so he let the price slide. It was a good deal, as far as he was concerned.  
  
The door opened just as he leaned back to bask in the mid-day sunbeam from the skylight. He heard two clunks on the table. Good lord, were they upping the ante to whole sacks of money? If it was those damn McDougal brothers again, he's throw them out on the street with their filthy money. He opened his eyes, and through the glare noticed that it wasn't money on the table. It was a pair of guns, one of which was quite familiar. He leaned foreward, out of the sunbeam, and grinned as he saw the face on the other end of the table.  
  
"Hey Vash. It's rude to have a friend not tell you their name, only to find out who it is in some book."  
  
"Heh, so you've read it too?"  
  
"Yeah. You weren't very flattering about me, but I figure I deserved every word."  
  
"Well, we can't all be perfect."  
  
"Ha! You're one to talk." He started to examine the two guns. Pretty good shape, this would probably be a quick fix. "You've made some whoppers."  
  
"Yea, I sure have... which actually raises a question. Even knowing what I've done, all the misery that I've caused, why are you helping me? I heard from grandma that you were rather picky these days about who you did business with."  
  
"Well, that's true. You have done some horrible things, but I don't feel that its your fault, or if it is, that you deserve to be blamed for it. We all make some bad choices, but it's what we do afterward that's important. And from what you've done, I think you just might be able to bring peace and equality to the world. Heck, you brought me out of my own private hell and made me start living again. Anyone who would do that for any man deserves another chance. Life is funny that way- it's so easy to lose, but when you think you're dead and really not, it seems miraculous to realize that you can still live. Kind of feels like I owe you my soul."  
  
They both laughed at that. The silver gun was done, the ruddy black one was next. As he poked at it, noting that it really needed some work, he noticed that someone had come in with Vash. She was a bit plain, but there were two features that really stood out about her. One was the giant wrapped cross across her back, and the other was that smile she had. It held no secrets, it just radiated pure happiness, a direct line to the heart. If she was a customer, she was getting a sidearm. "So Vash, did you find yourself a woman? Didn't notice anything in the book."  
  
He was treated to a sight of Vash the Stampede, one of the most feared men in history, blush and stutter like a shy teenager asking a crush out on a date. If he hadn't been involved in such delicate work, he'd have busted out a few whoops right then and there as the humanoid typhoon stared down at his fidgeting fingers. "Well, yeah, she's really quite nice once you get to know her. It actually took a while for us to get together, it kinda took writing that book for me to work up the nerve to ask her, and- ooh, it's embarrassing!"  
  
The lady patted Vash on the back. "My big big sister always said there's nothing to be embarrassed about when you're dealing with love. It just gets in the way of happiness."  
  
"Well, I'll wish the two of you the very best."  
  
Their heads swiveled around, a look of shock on Vash and a look of curiosity on the lady's. Vash spoke up first. "You think me.. and her?" His gaping mouth looked bigger right then than the crater on the fifth moon did. The lady's smile got bigger and she laughed, almost more of a loud giggle and downright musical. "Don't be silly! He's in love with Meryl, not me."  
  
Now it was his turn to blush and stutter, and nearly drop the bullet cylinder. "Aw, I'm really sorry ma'am, I just thought that when you came in with him that you two were, ah, you know..."  
  
"Oh no. I'm just keeping an eye on Vash the Stampede for the Bernardelli Insurance Society. Meryl got called back, but we should be meeting up again when we get to Inepril City. Until then, I have to keep Mr. Vash under twenty four hour surveillance. It's very important!"  
  
"Ah. Then I guess you're not here for a gun?"  
  
"That's right, though if you have the time, I do have one I'd like you to look at, if you aren't too busy."  
  
"Well, for someone like you, I can make time. Just set it down and I'll get to it right after this one, Ms... Uh..."  
  
"I'm Milly Thompson!" She thrust her hand in his face. "And I'm Frank Marlon. Pleased to meet you." They shook hands, or rather he thought he had- it felt like a vise had just clamped his hand. She had strength, that much was certain. After the 'handshake', she brought the cross down and it hit the floor with quite a thud. One tug at a strap, and bindings on it all came off. "It's a little unusual, but I would like to keep it in the best shape possible."  
  
"Er... I just do guns, I'm not much for church stuff, even such detailed items..."  
  
"But it is a gun. It's called a Cross Punisher, though I don't really like that name." She swung it up, and he nearly dropped the parts again as the long end neatly slid apart to reveal a heavy caliber machine gun barrel.  
  
"Well I'll be... And you can use that?"  
  
"Well, no. I don't like to hurt people, so I use my stungun instead. However, he always kept it the best condition. He never let it out of his sight, it was always by his side, even when he..." Damn. He knew that look from years of staring into a mirror.  
  
"You needn't say another word. I'll fix it up good as new, though it looks very complex- it'll probably take me all night."  
  
"Oh, time's not a problem, we've got a bit of trouble with our transport, so we'll be here for a while," offered Vash.  
  
"Then it's settled! Thank you Mr. Marlon!" She grabbed his hand and shook it again, making his own smile a bit forced as he winced.  
  
"My pleasure... Anyway, This one should be done shortly, so feel free to look around."  
  
Vash and Milly began to do just that while he worked on the ruddy black gun. Vash poked at some of his equipment and the gun collection, while Milly found his article collection pinned up on the wall. He re-bored the bullet chambers then worked on balancing the weight along the gun barrel. A sudden exclamation from Milly brought his attention back to his guests. "I had one just like this when I was little!" She was holding up his daughter's favorite doll, and the look on her face... It brought tears to his eyes. That was the exact way his little girl had looked when he got her that doll. He grabbed a nearby rag and blew his nose in it. When he brought it away, she was smiling at him just a foot or two away.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you sad..."  
  
"It's okay, it just happens from time to time. Sometimes old wounds will start hurting, it just happens."  
  
She nodded and moved off. He set himself back to work, and finished the repairs on the other gun Vash had brought in. "All done Vash. I hope you can use them as you intend to." Vash picked them up and gave them a twirl before cleanly holstering them both. "Thanks buddy. Want to go get a drink?"  
  
"Nah, I don't do alcohol anymore. I want to remember who I am, even if it does hurt sometimes. Besides, I've got another gun to work on."  
  
Vash and Milly nodded, and said their good-byes. After they left, he turned his attention back to the Cross Punisher, only to notice that his daughter's doll had been left on top of it. It smiled up at him, the frayed stitches that formed it showing signs of age. He sighed and picked it up to place it back on the shelf, but stopped before letting go.  
  
"What do you think? Would you be happier with her?" It didn't answer, of course. He just shook his head and moved to place the Cross Punisher on his workbench, when he found that it was a lot heavier than it looked. It took some serious heaving to get it up, and it threatened to break the supports that held it up so he could get at all sides of it. How could she possibly carry it around? The answer was simple, really- love made it light for her. It was still a shame though- left with her beloved's most important possession, and she wouldn't use it because someone might get hurt if she did. That just wasn't right.  
  
He sighed as he started to dismantle the outer casing, revealing the complex innards. Whew. Three different weapons in one, ten if you counted each handgun separately. As he poked at it, an idea began to form. He considered it for a time while he oiled up the joints, wondering if it was a good one. He turned to the doll- it only smiled at him. "So, think I should do it?" A clattering at that moment brought his attention back to what he was doing. A support had been knocked loose inside the gun, thus the handguns had all fallen out of the Cross Punisher to lay in disarray underneath.

* * *

Ooh, a longer chapter this time around. We're sticking with Vash & company for now, so Meryl will be left hanging.  
  
Knives: From the gallows, I hope.  
  
Fourth wall, Knives! See that nice horizontal rule up there? You can't go past that!  
  


**Reviewer Responses**

  
  
Sorian: Er, yeah. Pain is fun! ¤drops a Legato plushie, walks away while humming¤  
  
coffeetin: I think it's pretty good proof that not only do bad things happen to good people, but the bad things are quite obstinate in making sure they get to said good people.  
  
SapphireWhiteTiggress: Was this sufficiantly fast? (Yet still so slow...) 


	11. Chapter 10: A Pair of Surprises

Ah, looks like I'm getting settled in now. The last chapter was a bit rushed and written while I was going on twenty four hours with no sleep. This time, I ought to be more aware. I also noticed that I've passed the twenty thousand words mark, and I've still got major plans for the story. Sky's the limit!  
  
Disclaimer: Sky is not actually the limit.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 10: A Pair of Surprises

  
  
It was dark. _Really_ dark. It was so dark, he didn't see the wall right in front of him until it made itself known by a good stub to his toe. As he grimaced and bent over to clutch the injured member, his rear bumped into _another_ wall that someone had placed behind him, which forced his head into the wall in front of him. Now with three owies and only two hands to provide adequate owie-clutching, he lost track of his balance and tilted over to hit a third wall to his side. Great, he must be in a closet. Reaching out to feel for the door, he just found another wall. That wasn't right. He tried to stand, only to bash his head again against the roof which was now only about three feet off the ground. A few quick feels later revealed that he was quite effectively boxed in, and that it seemed to shrink whenever he wasn't in contact with a wall. He struggled a bit, until the space was so enclosed that his head was crammed into his own armpit, treating him to the wonderful smell of... cement? Uh oh. He held still, listening for any clues as to who put him here, and why. There was one noise, very faint. It was softer than most whispers, so he strained to hear it, focusing on filtering out the sounds of his own breathing and heartbeat. There, that was better, now, if it just made a noise again... _"Vash..."_  
  
_"Meryl!"_  
  
The box walls turned soft and squishy. There was a sensation of falling, and then... **-THUD-**  
  
Something really hard had hit him. He thrashed around some more, finally escaping the grasp of the viciously constricting... bedsheets? He panted on the floor by his bed in the inn, disengaging himself from the remainder of his tangled bedding when he noticed two glowing orbs across the room in the shadows. This was precisely the wrong thing to see after a nightmare, as his hair-raising shriek indicated. It continued until a hand flicked on a bedside lamp, revealing that the two glowing ghost-orbs were actually just Knives' eyes. He was leaning back in the bed motionless, appearing to be asleep for all intents and purposes aside from the open eyes and the arm that was grasping the lamp. "Pleasant dreams, brother?"  
  
He was about to make a reply when the door burst open and Milly came in stungun first. A few other patrons of the inn were behind her, guns drawn. Milly let the stungun drop after a moment, but the others kept their arms ready, trying to peer around her and into the room. "We heard a woman scream! Where is she?!"  
  
Knives answered first, while keeping his gaze on Vash. "Why don't you ask 'her' yourselves."  
  
All eyes swiveled in his direction. He squeaked out "Scary dream!" and the guns faltered, then dropped completely as the men took on a variety of looks from incredulous to disgusted. Most stalked off while muttering under their breath, but one hung behind long enough to dispatch some parting advice. "If you're going to Inepril, do the real bounty hunters a favor and stay here. We don't need any wussies, the Humanoid Typhoon ain't for amateurs!"  
  
Milly giggled at that, drawing an odd look from the advice-giver. He had a few words for her as well. "That goes for you too missy. The reward is good dead or alive, and only an idiot would choose to try for the latter. Either get a real gun or stay back with the wuss."  
  
"But we have to go! Everyone will be waiting for us."  
  
"Bah, you city kids think too highly of yourselves. Trust me, you don't want to go." The advice-giver turned and disappeared down the hall, the sound of a closing door cutting off the pit-pat of his feet. It was down to just the three of them, and Knives again beat them to the first word.  
  
"The spider was right about one thing. It would probably be best if we did not go to Inepril. It's become progressively more hazardous the closer we get to that location."  
  
"Well, yeah... But I promised. We're not ones to go back on promises, are we Knives?"  
  
Knives snorted, taking on an even more superior air. "It is a burden at times to be the better race. For now, let us salvage what remains of the night. Begone human."  
  
"Goodnight Mr. Knives. Will you be okay Mr. Vash?"  
  
"Yeah, it was just a bad dream, though it might be a bit hard to get back to sleep."  
  
"Whenever I had a bad dream, my mother and father would let me sleep with them to keep it from coming back. Would you like to sleep with me?"  
  
_That_ was unexpected. He let out a nervous laugh before responding. "Er, I, uh, no thanks!" He then jumped up from the floor and ushered her out. Before he could close the door, she leaned on it keep it open an inch. "Goodnight then, Mr. Vash. Pleasant dreams!" She then stood back and headed for her room as he shut the door. As he locked the door and turned around to lean on it, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Knives looked bemused at all this.  
  
"Quite the display of naïveté, wouldn't you agree? Perhaps you'd care to make a bet on how long it will be before one of the spiders takes advantage of that?"  
  
"That's not funny."  
  
"It's not meant to be. It simply... is. That's how they are, you know."  
  
"Not now Knives."  
  
He gathered up the sheets and tossed them haphazardly on the bed, then plunked himself down on them. Knives hit the lights, and they laid for a moment in the darkness.  
  
"Two of the bounty hunters were thinking of it, you know."  
  
Rather than respond with words, he just grabbed the pillow and sent it spinning towards the offending voice. It impacted with a nice wuffing noise, then silence reigned for another few moments.  
  
"I'm going to keep it."  
  
"Whatever."  
  
He drifted off to sleep again, to await the coming dawn. There were no more dreams that night.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
Morning. His favorite time of day, since it meant a nice meal. Well, make that one of his favorite times of the day. Even Knives was joining them, since the ration bars had been left in the truck, which in turn had been left at a mechanic's for repairs. He wasn't entirely happy, but he was tolerating it, which was good enough for the moment. There was one item on the breakfast menu that had jumped out as being the perfect one for Knives, which he was now poking at with a spoon as if it would explode. He paused in his own snarfing to encourage Knives along.  
  
"C'mon Knives, eat your Wheaties before they get soggy! It's the breakfast of champ-"  
  
Knives just shot him a 'stuff it' glare, so he shrugged and stuffed it with doughnuts, then poured coffee down after them. Bleh. It was bitter coffee, and he _hated_ bitter coffee. He reached for the sugar packets and poured a good half dozen in, but it still wasn't that good. _"I wish Meryl was here, she always made great coffee..."_  
  
"Don't worry Mr. Vash, we'll be in Inepril soon, and Meryl won't be far behind."  
  
"But I want my good coffee _now_..."  
  
Milly stuck her fork back in her eggs, then reached over to pat him on the back. "My little big brother says that good things come with just a bit of patience and hard work."  
  
He just let looks a wry grin and nodded, then started to lick the pancake plate clean before taking another glance at Knives, who still hadn't touched the bowl before him. "Well, if you don't want it, maybe I could-" That was all it took. Knives clutched the bowl possessively, brought it up, and gobbled it down in seconds. Milly just smiled and held up a napkin. Knives glared, but Milly was quite glareproof, so he simply snatched the napkin and wiped his chin. She then held up another one for him, at which point he noticed that out of the three of them, she was the only one with actual table manners. Ah, sweet opportunity!  
  
"You know Knives, Milly's got much better manners than you."  
  
Knives looked taken aback for a moment, but then settled back down into his usual air of omnipotence. "Manners are unimportant when danger could appear at any time."  
  
_"Yeah, and Thomases fly."_  
  
"So, want to come along to pick up supplies, or would you rather mope about the room until they kick you out at noon?"  
  
Knives just reached down to the duffel bag and dug out some money. "Then you had best get moving before I rent the room for another night."  
  
"But that's my money!"  
  
"Consider it added motivation to be efficient with your errands."  
  
He groaned and got up. Looks like there wasn't any time for seconds if he wanted to beat the suns. However, there might be a way to eat his doughnuts and get the truck too... "Milly, could you get a to-go box before you're done?"  
  
"Certainly, Mr. Vash. Half plain, half glazed, right?"  
  
"Perfect! Thanks, gotta run!" He wiggled his fingers, then was out the door in a flash, leaving behind little puffs of dust and surprised patrons in his wake.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
He had beaten the clock, though he had fudged a bit on the definition of 'finished'. He had one more thing to do, but since it wasn't exactly _his_ thing to do, he was technically finished. Of course, Knives wasn't very happy when he found out, but since Knives seemed to never be happy it was more or less business as usual. Thus, Knives was waiting in the truck while he and Milly entered Frank Marlon's shop.  
  
Upon entering, he was assaulted by a variety of smells, a few of which were his old friends of grease and gunpowder, but others were rather new. Was that glue? It didn't quite smell right for that. There was also a classic smell of hard work, which he assumed was the reason why Frank was sleeping on his desk instead of in bed, wherever that was. Poor fellow must have had his work cut out for him with the Cross Punisher. At least it appeared to be finished, since it was sitting by the desk and appeared to be in one piece. The ammo still had to be reloaded, as it was sitting next to the weapon in a neat pile. Except that wasn't the only thing still sitting out... Oh man, if Frank wasn't done he'd catch hell from Knives over the delay. He shook the sleeping man as Milly picked up the Cross Punisher.  
  
"Zzz.. ¤snerk¤ ...come back tomorrow, I'm closed..."  
  
This wasn't working. Instead, he leaned down and bellowed "Earthquake!" into the gunsmith's ear while rocking the table. _That_ got him up lickity split. Or rather, down on the floor, then up. "Dammit Vash, that was a terrible plan then, and it's _still_ a terrible plan now!"  
  
"For bank robbers, I guess. It's a great wakeup call."  
  
"Don't remind me. The suns came up before I finished... Man, barely two hours of sleep. What's the rush?"  
  
"Eh, well, we kinda have to get moving. Please say you got it all done?"  
  
"The Cross Punisher? Yeah, I got it done. So, Ms. Thompson, would you like to try it out? There's a few targets set up on the roof."  
  
"Do we have time Mr. Vash?"  
  
"Well, I guess. He's not going to get any less mad if we take a few minutes more."  
  
"Great! The stairs are right over there, let me know how it goes. If you're in a hurry, looks like I'm in one too!"  
  
He had vanished into another room while Milly tromped up the stairs. He could follow Marlon, follow Milly, or go enjoy Knives' company out in the truck. Well, scratch that last one. He decided to follow Milly after a bit, since things might get problematic if she activated the rocket launcher... It appeared to be the right choice, since he heard a familiar clanking as he put his boot on the first step up. The following 'FOOMP-shoop-CLACK' wasn't a normal noise. If the rocket launcher had jammed... oh dear. He raced up the rest of the stairs and forced his eyes to adjust instantly. If it was a jam, he had only moments before the round exploded inside the gun.   
  
However, there were a few things off with the scene that presented itself. First, the open end was for the machine gun, and it was only half open at that. Second, Milly didn't look the least bit let down that something wasn't working. Sure, the mouth ajar was a sure sign of surprise, but stars in one's eyes was _not_ a classic sign of disappointment. A few seconds later, that ajar mouth was firmly fixed in an exuberant expression of glee. Such sights were reproduced audibly when Milly burst out in wild laughter and started to skip around the roof, swinging the Cross Punisher around like a baton- A really large, heavy one that was headed his way. He jumped back to avoid getting his head bashed in, then felt an abrupt lack of footing. Oh, right, he had been at the top of a _stairwell_. A rather steep one, that had two nice twists on the way down. Three good thuds later, he was at a nice stop at the bottom enjoying the feeling of non-movement. While staring up at his legs that were three steps above him, he asked a question to the dust motes he had stirred up. "Did I miss something?"  
  
"That would be my question. I heard laughing and then I come out to see you there. Though to judge from that position, I'd say it was a pretty funny fall."  
  
Before he could respond to that, a heavy tromping made him look up. Milly was coming down, taking the stairs three at a time, and he was in the way. A short scream escaped before he sprang out of the way, running off upside down in a handstand. He knew what a boot to the face could do coming from a little girl _without_ two immensely heavy guns on her person, and didn't want to discover what happened if it was Milly introducing his face to footwear. Milly didn't notice his brush with injury, too wrapped up in wrapping Frank in a massive hug.  
  
"Thank you Mr. Marlon! You don't know what this means to me!"  
  
"So you...like it?"  
  
"Yes! It's wonderful!"  
  
"Great... I was...starting to...wonder..."  
  
Milly dropped Frank and bounced back up the stairs. The gunsmith collapsed on the ground, panting for the air that had just been squeezed out of him. In the meantime, he did a quick flip and returned the world to its proper 'This Side Up' orientation. He still had no idea just what had happened.  
  
"If that's her liking something, I don't want to see what happens if she doesn't like something."  
  
"She takes away their pudding."  
  
"Wha?"  
  
"Never mind. What did you do?"  
  
"What I always do. Let's go up and take a look."  
  
Going up the stairs again, this time letting the gunsmith go first and cautiously poking his head out to make sure there were no instruments of unintentional injury swinging about. Milly was over by one of the targets, unwrapping something coiled around it.  
  
"So, I see you found the net launcher. I wasn't sure which one you'd use first."  
  
"You mean there's more?"  
  
"Sure is ma'am. I'll explain it all on the way, and about how to treat it, as there are a few special procedures for the cleaning and reloading. Bring that net along, and I'll show you how to refold it. I need to finish packing."  
  
Net launcher? Special procedures? _Packing?_ "What's going on?!" he exclaimed as he ran after the gunsmith.  
  
"Heh, maybe you should lay off the drinks, they're making you slow. I did a bit more than just a tune up as you've guessed. That gun's a whole different beast now, one that's just as strong, but a little less sharp in tooth and claw. Oh, and I'm hitching a ride with you folks."  
  
He echoed that last phrase like a parrot. "Hitching a ride?"  
  
"Yeah, you're headed for Inepril City, right? It's turning into the biggest gun show the planet's ever seen. Every maker, every age, everything from standard issue to heavily modified to complete custom jobs. I was planning to head over there anyway to check out the sights, and you folks would just make the traveling that less dull!"  
  
Then Frank was through the door, tossing more things in a fat suitcase for an extended trip. He was left standing there frazzled as activity took place around him. First Milly came down and grabbed the case of extra ammo Frank pointed to, then Frank lugged the suitcase to the door. When had he invited the gunsmith to come along, anyway?  
  
"Hey Vash, move it! You said you were in a hurry, right? Unless you'd prefer to stay locked up in here when I close the store."  
  
He snapped out of his state and spun around. "Coming!" There was only one thought on his mind right then- _"Knives is really not going to like this..."_

* * *

¤rubs hands together¤ Heh, looks like someone just got an upgrade. I've had way too much fun writing this chapter, even if it did take a bit. I think one more chapter with Vash, then we'll see about getting Meryl out of the slammer. Only one thing's for certain- I completely lost my marbles some time ago. Watch your step.  
  


**Reviewer Responses**

  
  
(Note: Story and review FF.net servers decided to go whrrr-CHUNK just as I tried to access my reviews. Everyone, join me in beating the technology with blunt objects until its moral improves.)  
  
Sorian: Yeah, show that wall who's the boss!  
  
Yma: Well, as you can see above, Frank will be sticking around for a while. It is all part of The Plan™.  
  
coffeetin: To answer the question, yes. It's not too strong though, since Vash never used his telepathy much. Knives, on the other hand... As for the tone, expect it to vary quite a bit depending on who's involved. The people who view the world will be setting it far more than the situation they're in, though neither will have dominance over the other. It's just how I set the balance.  
  
kitsune: Ooh, mucho comment! I'm glad you like the style I've got, though there will be dark parts. However, I am a follower of the Great Warm Fuzzy, so it won't get too bad. And don't worry about any Mary Sues dropping in, I have Wolfwood _and_ Legato keeping them away. As for my e-mail, I don't have it listed because, well, it's something I hardly ever check. Combine that with hotmail, and you've got an addy subject to frequent dropouts. (This isn't new. Folks have said I'm a royal pain to get in touch with for years, no matter the medium. Yay me!)  
  
SapphireWhiteTiggress: Acting like Monty Burns must mean I've garnered interest. Good or bad, I'm not sure. It _is_ Monty Burns. 


	12. Chapter 11: The CP Mark III

I've got a pretty good turnaround time on these things. Of course, having said that, something's bound to go horribly wrong. But until then, I'll peck away diligently at my keyboard.  
  
Disclaimer: Beware, excessively long-winded explanations in the first part of the chapter.  
  
Disclaimer's Disclaimer: It gets good after that.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 11: The C.P. Mark III

  
  
"You've got a number of options open, but it all depends on how you hold it. The trigger's always the same, except for the side compartments which open when you squeeze these plates."  
  
His audience listened with rapt attention as they bounced over the dunes. He had just started his instruction on the use and maintenance on the remodeled Cross Punisher, so it would be a while before he could get some much needed rest. All that, of course, assumed that he'd be able to get to sleep with Millions Knives all of four feet distant. If what Vash had written was true, and he had no reason to think otherwise, then the person driving the truck was the one who really deserved Vash's reputation. He didn't look that dangerous, except for those eyes- if he had been a customer, there was no way he'd ever get a Frank Marlon Special. But there he was, driving the truck on through the dunes and keeping entirely focused on the somewhat worn path ahead.  
  
Vash sat beside his brother, listening to the broadcasts on a little headset. He had the volume up way too high, as the tones could be clearly heard even through the small rear window opening. How he had avoided going deaf like that was beyond him, but at least it was a distraction from the other constant sound of gum being chomped on. He must have a whole machine's worth in there. At least it was comforting to see him like that- between the radio, gum, the leg on the dashboard, and the arm hanging limply out the window, Vash looked the very image of relaxed. He'd need it too. Things would be busy in Inepril, so best rest while you could- which of course brought him back to his instruction and the hopeful sleep that would follow.  
  
"The rockets were easy to modify. All I did was pull out the explosive rounds and replaced them with flashbangs. Instead of using explosive force, flashbangs mostly generate intense light and a shockwave, blinding and stunning anyone near the detonation point. This could include you, so don't try them point blank. They're still semi-guided by the reticle, which should make them a lot more accurate. It's hard to get old tech like that launcher. Try placing one between those rocks coming up."  
  
Milly, as she insisted on being called, raised the Cross Punisher up and placed it on her shoulder at his guidance. The launcher end slid open and the sight dropped down. Right then, she looked quite intimidating squinting through the sight and crouched on one knee. A moment later, she tugged the motif that doubled as the trigger and the rocket sailed off in a lazy curve to land right between the rocks. He blinked as it detonated, still seeing the flash through his eyelids despite the distance involved.  
  
"Great shot Milly!"  
  
She let the cross dip down as she turned to smile at him, bringing up her free hand to rub at her eye. "That was bright!"  
  
"You're not supposed to watch it detonate. Remember to at least blink when it hits."  
  
A small pop interrupted him. Vash had turned around, and was watching them with one eye. He blew a bubble that didn't get very far before bursting and flapping back on his nose. He finally heard Knives speak.  
  
"Do not do that again. We desire to avoid attention, not attract it."  
  
Ah well. At least Knives had actually addressed them, the silent treatment was getting old.  
  
"No worries there. Once is plenty, ammo like that isn't cheap."  
  
Back to Milly. "Now then, I pulled out the machine gun entirely, and replaced it with two new weapons. You've already seen the net launcher in action, which is just as well since it's only useful at long range and you can recycle the ammo. You've only got five rounds in there and repacking the rounds is a pain, so it's not something you can use constantly. There are a few spare rounds in the ammo case, but even just reloading will take a minute."  
  
He tapped at a few spots on the weapon that granted access to the ammo chamber within, then took the saved net and showed her how to repack it into the tube that normally held it. After just one cycle, she took over and packed the rest of it perfectly. He shook his head and chuckled. For all her simple air, when she wanted to learn something she learned fast.  
  
"The short-range counterpart for the net launcher is in the side compartments where the handguns used to be. There are only four guns total now, since they're bigger than the old ones."  
  
She made the gunrack slide out and it ratcheted the guns out, ready to be grabbed. "Bolas!"  
  
"So you're already familiar with them?"  
  
"Yes, my big big brother got one for me when it was time for me to learn to defend myself, since I didn't want to hurt anyone. I haven't used it since I got my stungun just before going to the big city."  
  
"Great! I can skip this part and go on to the final use. It's the other item I stuck in to replace the machine gun, and it's a rather unusual one at that. Ever heard of a Polo Sticker?"  
  
She shook her head. "Eh, it's not surprising. It's an old model and was widely regarded as taking too much effort to use for the effect. Only collectors and a few lawmen still have working ones, though ammo can be bought at most any general store fairly cheap. Of course, that's only because its ammo isn't a bullet. It's a sort of glorified glue gun, effective to about twenty-five yarns depending on how you angle it. As such, the ammo is simply a can of type 5 glue and a can of compressed air. I had one, and there was just enough room in there to gut it and stick it by the net launcher. It's a bit hard to describe how it works, so just flip it over from the net launcher and let it fly at something. Pull and hold the trigger."  
  
Milly did just that, twisting the Cross Punisher around. The flap for the net launcher closed, and the sticker popped open. She pointed it towards a large stone pillar we were passing, and shot it for about three seconds. A foamy ribbon arced over to splash on the rocks, leaving a fair mess across the rockface.  
  
"It bonds almost instantly, and until it dries it's a few hundred times stickier than gum. To get loose, you have to wait for it to dry then break it off. That's why some lawmen still use it- it immobilizes the target without harming it for up to three hours. Of course, you have to keep it away from the face, but other than that it's quite safe. Cleaning, however, is quite a chore, especially if you wait too long. You need to pour solvent in the barrel and shake it around for a few minutes to keep it clear, and it would occasionally dry in the main tubes which are practically impossible to clear. Luckily, I managed a solution- the solvent is in there too, just give it a tap right here to purge the whole system. Might have made the Polo Sticker a lot more popular back then."  
  
A few more taps and he showed her how to change out the 'ammo' for that portion of the gun. He then had her do a complete run through of the whole-arsenal-in-one gun, and was surprised when she did it all correctly on the first try. Fast learner when motivated, indeed.  
  
"Well, I guess that about takes care of it. There's just one more thing, then I'm going to take a nap since Vash couldn't let me sleep earlier."  
  
The aforementioned party grinned, then somehow started to blow a separate bubble from between each tooth. Nice trick- if you were a kid. He just shook his head, smiling none the less. If there was anyone who knew all about living life, it had to be that man with the fading pink bubblegum. He turned back to Milly.  
  
"I already know that you like it, but I'd like to know just why you do. It's okay if you don't answer, but I am curious."  
  
Her expression furrowed a little as she thought, then she started speaking while watching the passing dunes. "Well... It's complicated. There are really a number of reasons. I suppose the best one is that I can use it, which is something I've felt was really important for a very long time now. Another one is that it's not every day you get the very best gunsmith in the world to help you."  
  
"World's best gunsmith? I'll admit I've got a few skills and a lot of folks want my guns, but I don't think I'm the world's best. Hell, maybe I'm the world's worst..." Bad memories surfaced and he turned melancholy.  
  
"Don't you dare think that Mr. Marlon!"  
  
Woah, where had _that_ come from? He opened mouth to respond, but before anything could fall out she launched ahead.  
  
"Nicholas once told me it was heavy because it was filled with mercy. I eventually found out what that mercy was, and it made me terribly sad even though it was a part of him... Any gunsmith could have fixed it up, but only the very best could have removed that mercy and instead...instead..."  
  
Her anger had abated, and now she was starting to cry. One of her hands reached over to brace herself against the Cross Punisher. Then she looked up at him, and he could see the tears, and a bit of a runny nose, but that was where his expectations stopped being right and were completely turned upside down. The rest of her expression wasn't sad at all, but contained a joy so deep and powerful that it was making her overflow. Her next words changed the way everything looked.  
  
"...instead filled it up with Hope."  
  
_"Lub-dub..."_  
  
If his skill with crafting guns had brought about that kind of joy, if even for just one instant...  
  
_"Lub-dub..."_  
  
Then she was right. Who else could do what he had just done?  
  
_"Lub-dub..."_  
  
The sky looked bluer than he could ever remember seeing it. The land around wasn't brown anymore- it was a composite of billions of tiny crystals, each one creating a myriad of points of light.  
  
_"Lub-dub..."_  
  
His customers would often give him a bonus for the quality of his work. Good words, referrals, often something simple like a sum of money. Some were more creative.  
  
_"Lub-dub..."_  
  
Vash had made him come back to the world and exist again.  
  
_"Lub-dub..."_  
  
And now Milly returned to him the dreams he had lost so long ago.  
  
_"Lub-dub..."_  
  
He could hear his own heart, pushing the blood through him with every beat. _This_ was the feeling of life, of being alive!  
  
_"Lub-dub..."_  
  
If Vash and Milly were working together, that dream of a world of peace and equality, _his_ long lost dream...  
  
_"Lub-dub..."_  
  
...had a really good chance of becoming real. And it'd be better yet, since they had none other than him, Frank Marlon, the world's best gunsmith, to help them along.  
  
_"Lub-dub..."_  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
He wasn't entirely sure what to do. When Milly starts to cry, getting her to stop again usually takes more effort than healing one of his ailing sisters. At least he wasn't on the front lines this time, thankfully Frank was her focus for now. The gunsmith stood up in the back of the truck, no doubt going to try and shut off the waterworks.  
  
"Well, put it that way, and I guess I am. Thanks a bundle Milly. Now for that nap, I am really...¤yawn¤...tired."  
  
And with that, the gunsmith was back down and already starting to snore. He froze in mid chew, and the massive gumwad fell right out of his mouth. How could that hitchhiking bum of a gunsmith go to sleep on him _now_? However, Milly dried up on her own just seconds later, so he wasn't stuck with a teary Milly.  
  
Unfortunately, his gumwad was now stuck _to_ Knives' leg. He groaned as Knives started up another round of chewing-out over their mental link, making his headache flare up again. _"/How can someone shout telepathically anyway?/"_  
  
_"/Perhaps if you spent more time developing the abilities you were given and less time finding more of your insufferable pets, you would KNOW!/"_  
  
He just groaned again as the truck hummed along, rubbing his pulsing head.

* * *

Heh, I had actually planned for it to be a much different chapter, but one thing led to another and I think it actually works pretty well as a stand-alone at this point. Of course, that means there's _still_ one more chapter to go before Meryl returns to the stage. Don't worry, I sent her a care package to tide her over.  
  
Wolfwood: You sent her a tin can!  
  
Legato: I found it most entertaining... I even drew a picture that brings me such joy. ¤holds up a crude drawing of a forlorn Meryl banging the tin can against the tiny air vent bars, and a little doodle of Vash in Inepril crying his eyes out over where she could be¤  
  
Back to guard duty you two! NOW!  
  


**Reviewer Responses**

  
  
Sorian: You forgot the other 27,732 times that _weren't_ shown in the show.  
  
SapphireWhiteTiggress: And what an upgrade it is, as you've probably just read. I'm really sorry about the leg, so take this beta test "Hug-me Meryl" doll. We're still trying to figure out what happens when you hug it more than three times- all other beta testers stopped responding.  
  
kitsune: Heh, well, the dark times are still a good ways off. As for Frank, don't worry, I can mostly assure you that he'll probably not die!  
  
Yma: I got that general impression from the past horde of reviews. Knives didn't get much screentime, but you can be sure there was plenty of noise if you were tuned in. 


	13. Chapter 12: Bandits Don't Shine

My dryer makes this loud '**BEEP**' whenever it finishes. I only mention this because I was thinking of what to write here when it nearly made me throttle my keyboard.  
  
Disclaimer: Do not mock the dryer.  
  
Legend: Words like /this/ denote events in the mental realm that don't translate into words well, so they're often just best-fits instead of truely describing the event or item. Italics, as always, represent emphasis and thoughts.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 12: Bandits Don't Shine

  
  
"Boom ba da pah chinka chinka boom chinka!"  
  
As he attempted to go along with the current tune on the radio, he was both sounding out the drum beats and mimicking them on the dash with his hands and foot. Knives was glaring at him yet again, though the glares were losing effect as he gained more exposure. He continued his one man hand-on-plastic drum solo regardless. It wasn't like there was much else to do at the moment. The area they were in was getting a bit rocky as they got into the geography of Inepril's region, but it was still quite clear of obstacles. The suns had set some time ago, but Knives wasn't about to stop and rest. To tell the truth, he didn't much want to stop either, though it was due to the sense of excitement that was building in him whereas Knives was probably feeling the strain of an increasingly grim-minded set of humanity around them.  
  
Yeah, that was a bit of a problem. They had passed or been passed by quite a few other travelers, so there was little danger of being stranded. However, given the mindset of some of the others, the price for a helping hand might range from steep to unacceptable. These were bounty hunters, getting funneled in by the changing terrain into only a few possible routes, though the closeness of the destination might also be a factor- you could only have so many people in a certain area before encounters were bound to happen. He could watch Knives tense as another person came into view, and relax again only after they were gone. That one had been on a Thomas, though he had seen just about every contraption for traveling used that day short of a sand steamer. Thomases, cars, stagecoaches, steamwagons, even a few on foot. They ranged from lone wanderers to large caravans, depending on the individual tastes for company, safety, and the usefulness of allies.  
  
Thus, their little party of four on a truck wasn't anything special. Without his red coat on, it made him hard to identify, so with any luck they'd blend right in and be able to spend a few weeks in the city bar hopping, seeing the sights, pestering large dangerous-looking people for fun, and chasing after women. At least, that was his plan for relaxing. What the others wanted to do was their choice, though he firmly intended on dragging Knives along- by the hair if need be -to get a dose of good old humanity. He grinned as the plots began to swirl about in his mind, though he stopped the grin when he saw what the dim interior light from the truck was making him look like in the side mirror. Huh, maybe Knives wasn't so evil as he was simply at the mercy of bad lighting? That theory fell through as being too silly even for him, so he simply got into the groove of the next song as they made their way through the darkness.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
"That one looks good."  
  
"You think? They don't look too good."  
  
"Yeah, but look at the driver. Anyone that focused must have something valuable to transport."  
  
"I dunno. Should we get the boss?"  
  
"Yeah, even if it's a bust for goods, I'm tired of watching the traffic and that woman might be worth a fair bit. I want some action!"  
  
"Your funeral if the boss don't like it."  
  
The two figures on the bluff flashed a signal ahead to another bluff, which was flashed back at them.  
  
"Alright! Time to show those folks that there's a toll for passing through Lawrence territory!"  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
This had been, still was, and would continue to be a bad idea. However, as long as brother was insisting on going to Inepril for the showdown, he was stuck alongside. He was recovered to the point where he could try his more advanced physical abilities for short periods, but total recovery was still a few days off. At least brother had planned for the designated date to be after he was back at full capacity. How he could be so intelligent in the details of his plans, yet so imbecilic in the plans themselves was beyond even a being of his own considerable intellect. In any case, he was still sub-standard, and that made every moment around this area exhausting.  
  
He was /listening/ to every mind that passed by, to gain insight into the tactics these spiders might use. What he /heard/ was nothing short of nauseating. Greed, destruction, and decadence dominated the thoughts he picked up. If he was making the decisions, every last one of those disgusting creatures would have suffered from strategically placed burst blood vessels, but not for long. Death would welcome them soon enough afterward.  
  
However, brother was going to meet the entire swarm of them at once, and unless he had developed abilities even he was unaware of they would inflict grievous harm upon his already scarred body. Why he persisted even after this sampling was a potentially fatal mystery. His pets were just as annoying. The surface only covered up the darkness below. The newest pet had displayed one moment of beauty, but a single moment could not make up for the time spent in a wretched state. As for the other pet, he was beginning to wonder if she was actually a human and not some form of machine for all he could pick up from her. If he used /force/, then brother would notice and that would be the end of that, so he just bided his time. Worst case, she died of old age, and he'd still get to dissect and examine her brain. Know thy enemy now or later, but he'd definitely know this enemy.  
  
Suddenly, he /heard/ multiple spikes of aggression, from both ahead and behind. An ambush? How very quaint, he could easily crush them all. However, brother would have none of that, so he would stay in the rear for this fight which was fine by him. No need to do something if someone else will do it for you. However, it appeared that brother still hadn't detected the threat, so he resorted to the sonic method of communication. This would also alert the pets to the threat. If he was lucky, the spiders would fight amongst themselves and he might be rid of the pets.  
  
"We're about to be ambushed. Prepare yourselves."  
  
Brother had his hands on the two guns already, but maintained a state of outward calm. Good for him. The pets were waking groggily, barely aware of themselves let alone their surroundings. Multiple small objects dropped in front of them, so he applied the brakes. This tossed the pets around, getting them into an aware and thus useful state all the faster, though they of course didn't appreciate it.  
  
"Why'd we stop Mr. Knives?" "What're you trying to do, kill us?"  
  
"Not at the moment. I'm merely avoiding those bombs."  
  
"Bombs?"  
  
The explosions made his point for him. Due to his stop, they were well outside the effective range of the detonations, as opposed to inside the damage zone. The ambushers moved in, and he finally got a glimpse of them. 'Ragtag' seemed to be the descriptive word for their appearance. However, the tactics suggested a higher organizational state. Five ahead, two behind, four more on the surrounding bluffs, and he could just sense another group, possibly unrelated though no assumptions should be made, approaching from behind. Effective, against other spiders. However, this was a completely different kind of fight they had instigated, and even brother's foolhardy methods should overcome them. Time to observe the action.  
  
A probable leader stood up. "You're totally surrounded! Get out of the truck and hand over your valuables!"  
  
Brother got out. The female did likewise, while the male crouched behind the retaining wall for cover. He remained ready to drive off. Brother was first to reply.   
  
"Now gentlemen, I'm sure we can resolve this without any shooting."  
  
The shot that hit near his foot countered his statement.  
  
"Okay, if you want to do it the hard way..."  
  
Brother kicked up his speed and aimed both guns in rapid succession at the ambusher's firearms. It would have been effective, had shots actually been fired. He muttered an oath internally- his fool of a brother hadn't loaded the guns. Thus, the only things shot were a few rounds _back_, which were dodged easily enough though brother's love of theatrics made the task look harder than it was. The screaming made the illusion perfect, as the ambushers laughed.  
  
"If you can't even afford bullets, we'll be happy to send you a few just-used ones! Since you seem to be having a spat of bad luck, how about you let us have those nice shiny guns and the girl, and the rest of you can move on!"  
  
Well, that was completely unacceptable. There was no way he would permit a gang of hooligans walk off with his Angel Arm guns. However, without ammo or growth time, they were currently useless, leaving them at a severe disadvantage with only the two pets able to take action. He gunned the engine to try and take off, but a few shots pierced the hood and caused too much damage to permit continued operation. That should not have happened- the hood was thick enough to withstand the caliber of bullet they were using, but the holes left behind were far larger. Wonderful, the ones on the bluff had an armor-piercing gun at their disposal.  
  
"Running off to save your own skin? Well, I'm afraid that just boosted our deal to everything you have. Now come on over missy, unless you want something unfortunate to happen to your friends."  
  
"No! You're not very nice!"  
  
"Well, that may be, but we're a lot nicer than some buyers out there. So get over here, or do you think you can call on god to save you?"  
  
The intentions that oozed off the leader were vile even for the spiders. All humans were guilty of enslaving his sisters to their demands, but these were part of the few who reached so far into the darkness that even their own kind were merely objects to exchange. It made his blood boil, or rather, if brother would permit, it would make their blood boil. However, brother hadn't yet asked for assistance, so he continued to bide his time.  
  
"Nicholas won't show you any mercy."  
  
"Mercy? _Mercy_?" The leader had a long laugh at that. "There's never been any mercy on this dustball!"  
  
"Maybe not now, but we've got hope."  
  
The back end of the Cross Punisher opened up, and it launched a projectile at the ambushers on the bluff. The flash was much more effective due to the overall darkness, and since the gang had all focused on it instinctively, they were all blinded for valuable seconds.  
  
_"/Brother, catch!/"_  
  
He threw a pair of reloads to Vash, who had them slapped in just in time for the next pair thrown to be caught and pocketed. He wasted no time in proceeding to shoot the guns out of the hands of all the bandits then take cover, as did the rest of them. The victory was likely to be short lived, as the other group was bearing in quickly and the hostile intent from them was even fiercer than that of their current company. They were well protected in the indent in the rock wall, but getting back out would be tricky and getting away all but impossible under the current rules.  
  
"So, can I kill them yet brother? It could only be an improvement."  
  
"No, you _can't_ kill them! I thought I made that clear!"  
  
"I hate to say it Vash, but he might be right. I don't think we can get out of this without someone getting hurt. Let's just shoot them in the arms."  
  
"That sounds like an acceptable compromise."  
  
"No!"  
  
Both his brother and the female exclaimed at that. His brother was still corrupted, but the female was a puzzle. Wasn't she aware of just what they intended to do to her, or was she truly without a brain at all? It would certainly explain the lack of readings he was getting... He pushed aside the thoughts as unproductive.  
  
"So brother, let's hear your idea."  
  
"Well, uh, I'm still thinking... Just keep them away for now?"  
  
"That's some plan."  
  
This time, it was himself and the other pet that echoed each other. At least the synapses were firing in his brain. If brother was without an effective plan, it was up to him to create one. His thoughts were interrupted by the gang leader.  
  
"It's over for you! The only law out here is that those with power can do what they want to those without!"  
  
A deep booming voice cut in at that moment. "I couldn't agree more. But what you're doing doesn't have any sparkle."  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
_"I know that voice..."_  
  
However, the annoying ringing in his ear thanks to a too close shot made an instant ID hard. Man, if he had only remembered to reload after getting the guns tuned up... Right now, he was placing his faith in his new best friend outside. Speaking of which, he was being yelled at by the gang leader.  
  
"This is no business of yours! Now take a hike you walking billboard before we use you for target practice!"  
  
"Ah, but this is my business. There's only one gang that operates outside of Inepril, and you're just not flashy enough to take over."  
  
"Why you-"  
  
A shot rang out, and that was able to jolt loose his memory. He had heard a few thousand deep booming voices over his travels, but there were only a handful of people who used old tech magnetic drivers as guns. Only one of those people hanged out around Inepril.  
  
"Don't be insulting, it's not beautiful. Now I want you to clear out, but not before I hear some names. I know what you've been doing, and taking away someone's chance to shine is one of the few things I won't stand for."  
  
"Bah! The Lawrence Gang doesn't take orders from anyone! So unless you brought the Cavalry, you're out of luck!"  
  
Time for him to make an entrance. He grinned and jumped out of the indent, ready to perform, slipping into his Triple-O mode. "Now gentlemen, before you do anything rash, you should know that you're dealing with the most flashy of outlaws, always a man of his word, who survived a duel with the great and handsome Vash the Stampede! I give you Brilliant Dynamites Neon!"  
  
He gave a flair towards the man framed by the twin towers of neon lights that was up above, opposite the Lawrence's gunners. The object of his show looked at him for but a moment, then let loose a great booming laugh. "What an introduction! If I hadn't said I'd kill you, I'd offer to let you join the Bad Lads! All right boys, we've been introduced! Let 'em see your shine!"  
  
All along the ridge, additional sets of lights flared into being, casting a glow over the whole stretch of the passage below. The Lawrences faltered, just realizing what a situation they'd gotten themselves into. The Bad Lads lined the other bluff, more heavily armed and armored than most Cavalry regiments. Milly came up behind him and waved.  
  
"Hello Mr. Neon! Mr. Vash has an appointment to keep, so you'll just have to wait until then if you want to shoot him."  
  
He twitched at that. He didn't even have to look to know that Milly had said that with a perfectly straight face. That girl was going to get him in some serious trouble someday, and the worse thing was that he probably wouldn't mind. BDN just leaned back and let loose another booming laugh.  
  
"Now that's someone with sparkle! I suppose I can hold off our fight until after you've had your rumble. I was planning to be there, because I knew that nobody else could shine enough to take you down."  
  
The Lawrence leader was swiveling his head back and forth as they spoke, first looking angry at being ignored, then realization dawned. "You're Vash the Stampede?!"  
  
He held up one hand and wiggled the fingers. "Hello!"  
  
Terror crept over the faces of the Lawrence Gang. The leader was the first to break down and run for it, with the rest of the gang not far behind. They ran off back the ways they came, leaving behind just about everything heavy that they could drop. The Bad Lads peered down after them, waiting for BDN's order. He waved them back. "We'll get them later, and bullets are just wasted on those with no sparkle. Right now, me and Vash have a little matter to discuss."  
  
"Uh, didn't you agree to postpone the duel until the fourth?"  
  
"This is different. I see your transport lost its glow."  
  
As if on cue, the radiator cap blew off the truck, sending up a plume of steam. "Yeah, I think the engine's shot..."  
  
"Well, I can supply you with enough provisions to make it to Inepril easy on foot, but I need a little something in return."  
  
"And that would be?"  
  
BDN held up something square. "How about a signature? It would really make this dull book glitter. I like how you wrote me, the words just glow."  
  
His handy marker was in hand. "Sure thing! Just come on down-"  
  
"No, you come up here. As that dull kid said, the powerful can do what they want out here."  
  
"Yeah, yeah..." He frowned, and began to scramble up the incline.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
They made it to the hills overlooking Inepril just as the suns peeked over the ridge behind them. They had ten days exactly until the appointed day came, and the city below looked... larger. A _lot_ larger. The buried section had been unearthed, and a ring of tents surrounded the city. He could see two steamers pulling in, and another one already docked. One of the just-arrived steamers looked rather bristly, with far more artillery than a normal steamer carried. Squinting, he could just make out the insignia of the Gunsmoke Cavalry painted on the side. Oh man, had _anyone_ not come for a piece of him?  
  
"They brought an entire battlesteamer. Interesting, from what I heard they were too heavy to move. The spiders are getting more ingenious for every moment we let them swarm over this planet."  
  
"Could you at least disparage my race when I'm not in earshot?"  
  
"I suppose I could, but I won't. I'll say what I desire when I desire."  
  
"Mr. Knives, Mr. Marlon, now's not the time. We need to go find Meryl, she's probably already there waiting for us!"  
  
"Ah yes, the other pet spider, I had nearly forgotten about her."  
  
"Knives, maybe you should let me handle the talking? It'll save us some trouble. You just sit back and relax, it'll be fun!"  
  
Knives just made a 'Hmph' at him, then strode foreward. Frank and himself came next, already sweating from the loads, and Milly brought up the rear with her perpetual smile before her and the Cross Punisher behind. They thus left the hills and made their way to the city.  
  
"Knives..."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Could you at least carry some of this?", as he gestured to the pack on his back that contained altogether way too much stuff. It both looked and felt like he was carrying the truck they had left behind.  
  
"No. He made clear his intent to harm you, so I'm not letting anything come in contact with me. If you were smarter, you'd do the same."  
  
"Man..."

* * *

Ah, so our brave(?), heroic(?), loyal(?) travelers have finally reached Inepril. Now it's time to jump _back_ in time a few days, to see what will become of poor Meryl before Vash finds out. I see psychologists, lawyers, heavy-handed tactics, and a screaming dude with a big sharp thingy yet to come!  
  
"Look at how the readers squirm like so many insects under a magnifying glass at your hints. Their misery is delectable."  
  
Zip it Legato. Do I have to use the stick on you too? ...wait, you'd probably like that. But you wouldn't like the potted plant!  
  
"I find all human pain to be a source of joy, even if it must be my own."  
  
Oh no, you won't like this one. It's a geranium!  
  
"...I shall return to guard duty."  
  
Yeah, you do that. Anyway, does anyone have five bucks? I need to gas up the DeLorian.  
  


**Reviewer Responses**

  
  
cjflutterbye: Eep! Missed your review by mere minutes when I updated, though the extra chapter may have made up for it. I noticed that you just seem to be starting to tear through 's archives, so I suggest poking about the other reviewer's stories and favorites. Talent follows the writer, and a good reviewer is usually a good writer as well. Of course, that reflects horribly on me since I hardly review. Must be Knives' influence. And don't worry, I've got plans for Mr. Marlon too, though they sort of developed as I wrote rather than coming with the initial idea.  
  
SapphireWhiteTiggress: Good thing you did! We found out about most of the other beta testers post mortem. Turns out we accidentally set them to 'Knives', not 'Meryl', and getting hugged was bad. Now the testers are simply reporting head injuries.  
  
Sorian: You may be interested to know that there really is a weapon like that glue gun. However, I just can't remember anything about it other than the demonstration, which was really neat. It worked about as described.  
  
betsytheripper: Death threats are forwarded to Legato, who then draws little pink hearts all over them and sticks them on his wall. I don't go in his room anymore. And there's no such thing as being stuck on a fic- ¤whispers¤ though your readers may not like it, you're allowed to work on others.  
  
coffeetin: Warm fuzzies! Yay! As for the question, Knives certainly could if he wanted to. Of course, whether or not he's actually _listening_ for her is another issue. As for Knives' personality, he had one year to learn how to interact, then spent the rest of life either avoiding or killing people, which doesn't give you much time to pick up social graces. 


	14. Chapter 13: 'Psycho' Analysis

¤bursts forth from timestream leaving behind twin fire trails¤ Whoot! Here we are, back where we last left Meryl. Time to see what happens! Dangit, I forgot the ice scraper and the door jammed. ...is that a sand steamer?  
  
Disclaimer: I like to make puns.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 13: 'Psycho' Analysis

  
  
It was truly amazing how much of a difference a night's rest could make. Even if about half the night had been spent wide awake swinging between bouts of impotent rage and crying fits, the other half was still quite effective. Of course, that assumed it had been night- without windows it was hard to tell for sure, but the cold that creeped through the walls had that classic nighttime bite to it. The light going off and plunging the room into complete darkness also suggested as much. There was no warning, it just cut off to leave her to feel her way to the bunk. Leave it to some damn warden to decide that it was either glaring day or pitch black night with no room for a transition between. A sudden fear made her stomach churn- would she ever get to see a sunrise or sunset again? She tried to push it aside like the irrational reaction it was and tell herself that everything would be fine, but it just wouldn't go away. At least she had enough wits about her now to _try_ and get back in control of her feelings.  
  
She really should have known better. In hindsight, everything made too much sense. _Of course_ they'd arrest her after learning of how much Vash looked up to her. After all, what better way to pin down the Humanoid Typhoon than taking hostage someone important to him? The old joke about the government being the biggest crook of all drifted through her head, but it wasn't funny anymore. How would he react? Would he give himself up for her? Would he try and rescue her? Would it finally push him over the edge and send him on a crusade with his brother to wipe out humanity? An image of Vash and Knives, side by side striding down the streets of a burning December appeared in her mind. Another wave of terror washed over her even as she tried to fight it back with logic and what she already knew. Vash would never do that. He might end up reducing the city to rubble with a crackpot scheme to get her out, but he would never kill over her. Then a memory of Legato's final moment surfaced, and the terror crashed over her again. It made her heave, but nothing came up. Thank goodness she hadn't eaten in a while.  
  
This thinking was getting her nowhere. 'What ifs' were just that- things that may or may not happen. Obsessing over them was getting her nowhere. Then there was a sudden loud clang from outside, and the footsteps were back. She sat up as they got closer, running a hand through her hair to try and smooth away some of the tangles. The footsteps stopped outside the door and a squeak of keys in a lock came before it opened. There were those looks again. A mixture of fear, anger, and pity in varying quantities covered their faces. She stood up slowly and glared at them, noting that none of them would meet her gaze. The wardens had to eventually move, and she just wanted to get it over with already. She held up her hands and one of them snapped the manacles in place. _Dangerous criminals_ had to be restrained, after all. As they led her through the hallway, she kept her head up and eyes fixed foreward. She tired from the effort before long even with the shortened gait from the bindings- it seemed the night hadn't done much good for her after all.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
They weren't in the maximum security wing anymore. She figured they must be getting into the visitor and administration areas, but there were still cells in the current hall. The occupants looked to be in for the short term since most of them still wore outside cloths, and a reek of alcohol let her know that this particular cell must be the drunk tank. However, there had been one recurring theme as they moved through the prison- all the prisoners would grow quiet and watch her pass by. She could see the fear in the eyes of some, but in a lot of eyes she was seeing something new- respect, even admiration. Somehow, it was even worse than the anger and pity. What were the rumors like if she was being looked _up to_ by hardened criminals? Vash's sixty billion double dollar bounty and the multitude of horrific stories she had heard about him were making more sense now. The rumor mill was truly vicious once it started, and she was torn between wanting to know the rumors, and _not_ wanting to know. No wonder Vash had never been very interested in knowing the stories told about him.  
  
They entered yet another corridor, that for once wasn't filled with cells but instead with regular doors. They stopped before one, and one of her escorts opened it for her. The room was fairly drab, and reminded her of her apartment- functional, but that was it. As a meeting room it had everything that might be required but not a single thing extra. Still no windows, but at least the electric sun was recessed into the ceiling over the table so it wasn't a source of irritation. There were two people waiting at the table, one woman and one man. The man moved with a great deal of precision and looked quite neat in his suit- he was probably the lawyer the company had gotten for her. The woman was more casual and gave her a friendly smile. She locked onto it, as it was the first time in a while that anyone had given her a real, honest to goodness smile. Then her own lips were tugged down as she realized that this was probably the psychologist Mr. Bernardelli had mentioned. She had a nametag on- Sara T. Rose. _"Well Ms. Rose, I hope they didn't waste too much money on you."_  
  
Her lawyer lept into action right away, demanding that his client be unchained then asking her a number of basic questions. She answered in monosyllables, taking a dislike to him already. He was too squinty and hadn't even said hello. To him, she was probably going to be the cornerstone of his entire career. She was nothing more than a major case to be won by him, and it was clear that he had no interest in anything that wasn't related to that. However, if he could get her out, she could tolerate him. He eventually muttered something to her about seeing the prison chief while rifling through his notes, then he was out the door.  
  
That left her with the psychologist. She offered up a small glass of water with that disarming smile and introduced herself. Her voice was warm and the tone inviting.  
  
"Hello Ms. Stryfe, I'm Dr. Rose, but you can call me Sara."  
  
She took the glass of water with a nod, then downed it before responding. "Thanks for the water, but I really don't need to have my head examined."  
  
"You sound quite sure of that. I do wonder though, how did you figure out I was a psychologist so quickly?"  
  
"Nothing special. When they brought me in they said I was a genocidal maniac made that way by a thorough brain-soaking by the Humanoid Typhoon. That guy was the lawyer, so that left you to be the psychologist."  
  
"Well, brain-soaked or not, you're still quite sharp."  
  
There was a long pause after that, with the good doctor keeping her under that smile. It was wearing her down quickly with that sort of persistence. Well, she was the first openly friendly person she'd met since arriving in the city, so no sense wasting this chance.  
  
"So... Why me? I've seen how they look at me. The lawmen want me dead, gone, or locked away forever, and the criminals look to be almost ready to start offering up tribute to curry favor. Why the hell did you take me?"  
  
"Because you need help, and we should always help out others if we can."  
  
"But I don't need help-"  
  
"You're scared, hurt, angry and nobody will listen to you. You _need_ help."  
  
Well, looks like Mr. Bernardelli meant it when he said the very best psychologists, or was she really that transparent right now? In any case, the stewing caldron of feelings finally bubbled over and she began to spill her troubles at the feet of this person.  
  
"Why are they doing this to me? I haven't done anything they say I have! Those lousy bastards are just so frustrated in their hunt for Vash that anyone near him will do!"  
  
"Well, yes... People do strange things when scared, and in a group that fear can bounce and multiply. Before you know it, those fears have a form full of big sharp teeth and claws that lurks under the bed. That's what's happened to you. The people heard that you helped Vash, and so many couldn't see it for the wonderful selfless thing it was. That's when the 'I think' opinions started, which quickly turned into 'I heard' stories, which then became the 'truth'. It's all very sad."  
  
Now they were both staring down at the table into their respective glasses. It was a scene right out of any bar, if she ignored what she was wearing. They stayed like that for a bit, until curiosity finally won out.  
  
"So, just what is the 'truth' they've created?"  
  
"They say that you're Derringer Meryl, who's always by the Typhoon's side, able to slaughter fifty men in fifty seconds... A remorseless killer who enjoys every life taken, whose beauty entices souls to hell, and the Typhoon's lover and trusted lieutenant. Something new seems to be added every time the story's told."  
  
_That_ was the story? It was ludicrous! Completely outrageous, beyond all rational thought! She began to laugh at the absurdity of it all, a long hard laugh. She was laughing so hard it was starting to force out tears, and she could barely manage to breath in. She bent over and pounded the table, it was so funny!  
  
Then she noticed that she wasn't laughing anymore. She was sobbing, great big sobs right into the table. Her fist slammed down once more and went limp as her whole body shook. Right then and there, she wanted Vash to burst in and hold her tight and say everything would be all right, because she just didn't know anymore. She didn't know anything anymore. The sobs eventually stilled and her eyes ran dry.  
  
"What's the truth? The real truth?"  
  
What was the truth, indeed? Her mouth moved of its own accord. "I love him."  
  
Had she said that? She had said that. It was the truth. Buried inside her, covered up by layer after layer of worry and dread that had started to pile up the moment she had boarded the steamer to December. Now all of that was burned off as that core truth shined out again. Not long ago, she had sworn to herself that she would claw her way through hell to get back to Vash, and now she had to do just that. She was so wrapped up in internal rebuilding that she almost missed what the doctor said.  
  
"Then everything will be fine!"  
  
She smiled at that, glad to be able to do so again. "Are you sure? It pretty much blows the whole brainwashing bit out the window."  
  
"Well, yes, I'm not sure what they'll do at the trial now. However, I think it's wonderful that you can love someone so much, as long as you act on your love you can do no wrong."  
  
What a nice, simple thing to say. "I guess I'll have to figure out something to defend myself with. There's only one real charge anyway, and it's a small one. However, now I have a question... Why did you do what you did instead of trying to support that idiotic brainwashing theory?"  
  
"Because you needed help, real help, and I just couldn't ignore that. You can't just forget the truth."  
  
"And how did you know the truth? The stories could have been true. For all you know, they could still be true."  
  
"Because my little sister told me!"  
  
_"Little sister? It couldn't be..."_ "Your middle initial... it wouldn't happen to stand for Thompson, would it?"  
  
That smile was back, and it was all the answer she needed. It must run in the family. Sadly, they were out of time, and probably had been for a while. She idly wondered why her escorts hadn't burst in yet. Of course, if they had, they would have gotten The Look from Sara, and that would have qualified as cruel and unusual. Thank god for the Milly Monthly!  
  
"I know someone who might be able to help, she's a sheriff who has an outstanding record and I believe she can make a difference."  
  
"Thanks."  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
They were escorting her back through the prison. This time around, everyone was looking at her with at least some fear. It wasn't often that they'd see someone bound and escorted like she was, yet still managing to smirk. Right then, she didn't give a damn what they thought, only her friends' feelings mattered and the rest of them could go stick their heads in a Thomas's feeding trough. Her cell felt less oppressive once they finally stuck her back in it. Of course, it was only a matter of time before she was out.  
  
They brought her a meal not much later that she devoured. She was really quite hungry, which was good because the food was horrible. Burnt _and_ raw- a rare and hard to accomplish feat. However, food was food and she needed it, so taste buds were overruled. After that, she stretched out on the bunk and set about getting some real rest. Not even the evil little lightbulb sun could stop her.

* * *

Woo-ha! There's a moral to this chapter: If you need help on Gunsmoke, go see a Thompson.  
  
Legato: Such a pity... I was enjoying the events so much, and it was ruined by a happy ending. Only Master may have those.  
  
Gee, that's too bad. They could still execute her if that'll make you feel better. Now go to your room!  
  
Legato: What are these things doing in here?  
  
Er, nothing! ¤shoves and locks door¤ Well, next chapter we'll get more of what I promised last chapter. We'll also see another familiar face, try and guess who.  
  
Wolfwood: Me?  
  
I SAID NO! ¤waves The Stick¤  
  


**Reviewer Responses**

  
  
SapphireWhiteTiggress: There are a few chapters worth of Meryl action to go, so it'll take a while before the gang is together again- _if_ they're together again!  
  
betsytheripper: Oddly enough, my current job has me stocking pop-tarts every night. I forwarded the items to Legato, and you can have this copy of his room key. Only use it (ir)responsibly!  
  
cjflutterbye: That truck is sadly kaput, but never fear! Knives will be working on many other things of a mechanical nature, some of which will require many hours of effort to fix. Shirtless. Under the suns.  
  
Sorian: Yeah, but you'll have to take a number. Legato's pretty popular.  
  
Yma: Heh, I can't get everything right, though I thought that BDN was about right considering the guy smokes sparklers. Ah well, no point quibbling a quibble, I'll take my Knives and be arrogant.  
  
coffeetin: Well, you'll just have to wait and see, but I do have Evil planned. As for the Gunsmoke government, well, they will be causing trouble in a big way, but probably not when and how you'd expect.  
  
kitsune: ¤blushes, stammers¤ Well, I, uh, that is to say... ¤wanders off in a daze sounding like a broken record¤ 


	15. Chapter 14: The Long Arm of the Outlaw

Ah, time for the next installment! We've got adventures in mind-land, exciting courtroom battles, and the much-awaited screaming dude with a big sharp thingy! Prepare to have your pants blown off!  
  
Disclaimer: No pants were harmed in the writing of this chapter.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 14: The Long Arm of the Outlaw

  
  
When she woke, it took her a while to notice that she was, indeed, awake. In the pitch black darkness that enveloped the room, it was impossible to see anything, and she almost poked out her own eye while checking to see if she really had them open. Rolling over on the bunk, she tried to fall asleep again, but discovered to her dismay that she was too well rested now to get more sleep. Now she was stuck with another problem, one that she didn't just hate, but _despised_ with every fiber of her being. The problem being that she had absolutely nothing to do.  
  
That problem had hit her before, but every other time there were things she could do. Work on her reports, get a part-time job, even just get herself a banana sundae to poke at for a little while. In this room, unfortunately, there was nothing to be done. She laid on the bunk, listening to her own breathing. She didn't know how long she had laid there, because aside from her own body there was no sense of time. It could have been hours, or days, or weeks. Or probably five minutes. No wonder sticking people in jail was considered an effective correctional measure- the boredom was worse than anything else she could think of.  
  
An idea on how to pass the time eventually emerged. During Vash's crash course on mental warfare, there had been some things going on that weren't entirely expected. The dream overlaps were one, but there were other effects besides that. Odd feelings, unusual headaches that she couldn't be sure were really there, twinges of emotions that just didn't seem to fit well with her. Nothing major enough for her to comment on, but there none the less. Without anything else to do, she tried to return to those /places/ Vash had shown her before. If she was lucky, maybe she could reach Vash and let him know what was happening. Taking a deep breath, she went /inside/.  
  
There was nothing here. It wasn't even dark, because that would have been something. It was like existence ended at her skin, and she didn't like it one bit. So she focused on trying to feel what was past that, to reach out and touch... what? Now there were things around her that she could /see/. They were like lights, floating around above her, some just a little higher up and others quite a bit higher still. Some were close, but as she /looked/ at the far ones it was like she moved to where they were simply by wanting to get closer. The longer she stayed in a spot, the more lights appeared, and eventually she was in a huge cloud of lights. Most were too high up for her to reach, but one was drifting lower, close enough that she might be able to touch it. It was flickering, the glow tinged with streaks of red. It drifted just a little lower, and she /touched/ it.  
  
The lights were gone. However, where she was now made far more sense. It was a city like any other, filled with everything you might find in a city, except for three highly important differences. No sounds, no smells, and if she looked at anything hard enough it seemed to melt under her gaze. Then again, it may have just been the raging inferno that was consuming the city. The flames were tall and danced with intensity, burning everything they touched, even the bricks. She could feel the heat, but only if she actually stuck her hand in a flame, and even then it wasn't very hot.  
  
Then she finally heard something. A voice, distant, that was crying out for help. She ran through the endless streets towards the voice. The flames reached up all around, completely covering every building yet remaining stubbornly silent. It was more than a little creepy, but the voice kept her moving. She eventually rounded a corner, and finally saw who was pleading for help. It was a small boy, he couldn't have been more than eight or nine, who was running down the street filled with flame and shadow. His movements were all wrong- even though he was running madly, it was like the road kept tugging his feet back with every step, slowing him to a crawl. She ran towards him, glad that she was able to move normally. Then she saw what he was running from.  
  
There were two things behind him, also moving normally, but very slowly, matching his pace perfectly so they never caught up, but also never fell behind. They were tall, too tall to be people even though their outlines looked like people. Their flesh was composed of shadows and the eyes glowed like the surrounding flames. They were swathed in garments the color of fresh blood, and as she closed in she could see the expressions of pure fury and hatred that they had. A few more strides and she was by the child. She swept him up and turned back to run away from the demons that pursued him. He clutched onto her and tried to hide under her cape- when had she gotten her cape on?  
  
The mystery would have to wait, as the demons were now matching her pace. This was bad. "What are those things?!"  
  
The child peeked up at her and blurted out something that made her skid to a halt. "It's Vash the Stampede and Derringer Meryl!"  
  
_"Those things are me and Vash?"_ Now that was completely absurd. She was right here, not over there, and she _certainly_ wasn't ten feet tall with fangs for teeth and eyes of flame. Then she figured it out. Before she had met Vash and discovered just what kind of person he really was, she had a similar internal image of the Humanoid Typhoon. It was probably how most people pictured him if they'd never met him. That wasn't Vash at all, just the image she saw in her nightmares when she was growing up, a conjuring of intangible fears based off the stories she heard... Exactly like what this boy was seeing in this nightmare.  
  
"Well, there's no need to run now."  
  
The child stared at her like she had just gone mad. For all he knew, running was the best idea, but she knew better. You can't run away from your fears.  
  
"They can't hurt you. Nothing here can. This is only a dream. Nothing here is real."  
  
"But, but, but-"  
  
"And Vash and Meryl are nothing like _that_," as she gestured towards the giant red demons.  
  
"But everyone was saying-"  
  
"I'm really getting tired of what everyone says. You don't know someone until you meet them yourself. That's something that took me far too long to learn."  
  
"But-"  
  
She sighed. "I'm Meryl. Yes, _the_ Meryl, though I'm really not liking that nickname anymore."  
  
The child looked at her quizzically, and she noticed out the corner of her eye that the demon-form of her just faded away. "You don't look like a monster..."  
  
"I don't look like a monster because I'm not a monster, and neither is Vash. He's really more like..."  
  
All of a sudden, he was right there, red coat, tinted glasses, and a box of doughnuts in hand. However, he was lacking substance like everything else here besides herself and the boy. He crouched down after stuffing a whole doughnut into his mouth and offered the next one up for the boy, with a huge grin in place and bits of the last doughnut still stuck between his teeth. "...like _that_."  
  
The other demon faded away too. "And this isn't the world we want, we want _this_ world."  
  
She dug up the memory and forced the burning city away. It was replaced by the endless fields of grass and trees that had dominated her last dream with Vash. The boy's eyes widened as he looked around, then he promptly set off to run around this new world. She sat down by the illusionary Vash, who was scarfing the doughnuts just like the real one would. One was offered her way, so she shrugged and took a bite. No taste at all. Then again, had she ever tasted anything in a dream before? Probably not, if the doughnut was any indication. The boy ran further on, stirring up a mass of butterflies. The colors swirled around the distant image, making everything look blurry. With a bit of shock, she noticed that _everything_ was blurry, and soon it all faded away...  
  
...to leave her back in the darkness with all the lights. The one she had managed to /touch/ had risen up out of her reach, now glowing a steady white tinged with blue. It didn't take a plant engineer to figure out that these lights must be people. However, everything else was still elusive. She was _mostly_ sure that the color had some bearing on what emotions the people were feeling, but couldn't be sure. /Looking/ farther, she saw new things emerge. Lights that were far larger than the others, that had thin wisps connecting them together. One of them was drooping, the light fading as it dropped and the strands breaking. She got under it, and /touched/ it.  
  
_"Hurthurtworkpainworksuffernogonogonotoomuchworkmorehurtmorepainendingendi ngending.ending..e.n..d...i.....n....g........"_  
  
The sheer force of the feelings slammed her back like a sledgehammer. She flew back to the original dark place, and back /outside/. She bolted upright on the bunk, panting for breath, a cold sweat covering her. She could see her arm was shaking slightly in the harsh light that now pervaded the cell. _"What the hell was that?"_  
  
Of course, there was nobody there to tell her, if indeed there was anyone on the planet besides Vash and Knives that might have an idea. The bulb flickered overhead as she collected herself. If it was 'morning', then she would probably be getting a visit from the wardens before long, and she wasn't about to let them see her looking dishevelled any more than they already had. Of course, there was no telling when they would come, so that meant an eternity spent sitting around waiting. Sure enough, after she had counted every one of the two hundred and thirty two rivets that were in the ceiling, she heard the clang and the footsteps that signaled the arrival of her escorts.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
Well, that had been fun. Of course, she knew it was only fun for the reporters and bystanders because of the spectacle her walk across the street had been. There had been lawmen everywhere as she was whisked across to the courthouse- there had also been some of the Cavalry on hand to keep the crowds back. She saw the waiting mob just as the prison gate opened, and had squeezed her eyes shut- if those vultures wanted a picture of her, she was going to be blinking in every damn one. Of course, that posed a problem with walking, so she just barely opened one eye so she wouldn't trip over anything. Thus they managed to cross the street and were now inside the courthouse, which was thankfully devoid of newsies with cameras.  
  
Now the courtroom doors creaked open almost unbearably slowly. They _had_ to have been made that way, it was just too foreboding to have been a mere coincidence. The judge at the end also looked rather foreboding. As they entered, she scanned the rows for familiar faces, and actually picked out a few. Mr. Bernardelli was there, so were Mark and Karen from the office, and all of them were giving her those stupid pity smiles. Feh, some help they were. There was only one more she recognized, and what a face it was. It sent a whole tangle of emotions running through her, and she took a step towards dad before the escorts steered her back. His expression was stony, but she could see his eyes light up as their gazes met, and then a fury as he glanced down at her wardrobe and restraints. But none of that fury was directed to her, and there was no pity or fear in him. For everything that was happening, for all the stories being told, he was still her father and he was here to support her no matter what. He was stubborn like that, probably where her own streak of implacability came from. Mother would be there too, but had probably been thrown out- the temper followed the women in their family, and mom had gotten a double dose. However, Sara was nowhere to be seen.  
  
The list of charges against her was read off- it seemed to have grown since her original arrest, no doubt to keep pace with the stories. After every charge, she was prompted to respond. It was a constant stream of 'not guilty', which was duly recorded by a half-asleep recordkeeper. She got a small sense of satisfaction when he had to jump and correct the last entry when she responded 'guilty' to the aiding and abetting a known criminal charge. Any way you cut it, Vash the Stampede had broken a number of laws, and Knives was certainly no angel even if he was officially just a lie made up by the Humanoid Typhoon. Once the charges were finished, an attendant opened her mouth to speak, but was cut short by a loud whistling noise from outside and a deep boom that happened very soon after, though the original whistling noise continued. Several people grew agitated and demanded that someone do something about it.  
  
Then the enter side of the courtroom was blown in.  
  
As everyone began to pick themselves up, she shoved aside a chunk of plaster that had landed on her and finally got a look at just what had hit them. There was a very large sphere sitting in the middle of the courtroom that wiggled a bit then broke apart. It turned around, and she saw a very deep frown on the face that was revealed- well, what was revealed below the armored goggles. The man jumped up and ran, first by an absolutely gigantic fist then out the newly enlarged windows. "Dammit, what the hell is the Nebraska family doing here?"  
  
Her statement was mimicked by a number of the lawmen, though most choose even more colorful language. There wasn't much time to do anything, as the whistling started up again signaling that another family member was on the way even as the fist withdrew. "Everybody get down!"  
  
This time, the roof was ripped clean off with only a minimal showering of debris on the people inside. Sounds of sporadic gunfire drifted in once the sounds of half a building falling a few stories settled down. The dust was thick, giving everyone a dull gray appearance. The whistles started again, punctuated by another boom. This time, she could just make out two huge figures through the dust- no doubt the mother and big boy of the family. Since the room didn't end up any lower, the targets must have been elsewhere, though the gunfire cut off. It was eerily silent, the haze still drifting down and getting in everything as a sneeze broke the silence. That set off the lawmen in the court.  
  
"It's a breakout! Don't let the prisoner escape!"  
  
_"What?"_ Surely they didn't think-! Well, it did _look_ that way. She heard footsteps coming towards her rapidly, and decided to just drop where she was rather than get shot up 'escaping'. Unfortunately, the lawman had been intending to tackle her, and ended up tripping over her to fall into another guard that was headed her way. The two of them were knocked out cold with a thunk that made her wince. That left nobody close enough to do anything when a hand reached in and snatched her up.  
  
"Don't just stand there! Shoot her!"  
  
As she was lifting up, she struggled in the grip but it was like iron bars were wrapped around her. That was when she got a perfect view of a group of three armed gray figures, rifles out and swinging up towards her. As this range, they couldn't possibly miss. Time slowed to a crawl as a light glinted off the gun barrels, and just as they swung into line an entire courtroom bench slammed into the group. _"Eh?"_ Tracing its route back, she saw one dust-coated figure fall to their knees, panting heavily, but the smirk of success that showed through made it clear that he had been the one to throw that absurdly heavy piece of furniture and prevent her from getting a new hole in the head. An identical smirk reached across her face. _"Never mess with a Stryfe."_  
  
However, the danger was just growing. She was cupped between two massive hands, and the rattling she was getting meant they were on the run. There were occasional sounds of crashing, smashing, and massive property damage coming from outside, and she redoubled her efforts to get out of the handlock. Nothing seemed to do any good, as her limbs were pinned to her sides. There was still one option, but it wasn't going to agree with her. She rolled her tongue back and sank her teeth into the hand.  
  
"WAAAA!"  
  
The hand let her go, and she abruptly remembered that the Nebraskas were quite tall, and the ground was a lot farther off than she'd like. For once, the restraints proved to be useful and kept her from falling some forty feet down. That still didn't make her new position as a puppet with tangled strings any less embarrassing, and it seemed that the more talkative members of the Nebraska family weren't too occupied in escaping to tell her off.  
  
"How could you bite my mother like that you brute! You're just as vicious as the stories say!"  
  
Oh, that was _it_. She didn't care that she was balanced precariously from a finger at a probably lethal height while being run through a city with clusters of gunfire and artillery rounds landing all around. She wasn't about to get berated by this pack of idiots without getting a few words back.  
  
"_I'm_ the brute?! Just what the hell are you doing busting in like that? They're already blaming me for all this when it's all _your_ doing! I demand that you put me down _at once_!"  
  
"Sorry, but we need you to collect that sixty billion double dollar reward! And they were about to throw the book at you, the least you could do is show some gratitude for us busting you out!"  
  
She twisted around to get Professor Nebraska under her glare, noting that even with the distance and her predicament that he reeled back under it. "You cause me who knows how much more trouble that I really don't need, you admit to wanting me for bait, and you _still_ want me to show _gratitude_ to you?! I don't care what you think, but if you don't put me down _this_ instant you'll find out that the stories don't even scratch the surface!"  
  
"A bold move dearie, but I happen to know better. Vash is as harmless as a baby when it comes to killing, and all we need is some edge to keep him still long enough to squash him. I bet you can guess which edge we choose."  
  
The other talkative Nebraska started to wail. "Tonkichi! There's something wrong with Tonkichi!"  
  
That brought her attention downwards to where the ballistic brothers of the clan were running along. One of them was wobbling rather badly, then fell over flat on his face. The shaft of an arrow stuck out of his butt, which was now pointed skyward. The entire procession halted, just in time too because the next building in their path looked really expensive. A jeep that had been bouncing across the rubble behind them swerved to a halt, and more arrows shot out to peg the other two brothers.  
  
"Chinpei! Kanta! How dare you hurt my poor little brothers! Don't cry mama, I'm sure they'll be fine..."  
  
A red coat, a blond head of hair, and a flash of silver made her think that Vash has come to her rescue, but Vash certainly wasn't female. However, at least this was a face she knew and thus might be more helpful than most. The outlook got better when she spoke up and didn't shout about 'Derringer Meryl's Escape'.  
  
"Nebraska family! Release your hostage and surrender! You can't escape, the Cavalry has this city surrounded!"  
  
"'Nebraska family, surrender!' 'Nebraska family, you can't escape!' I've heard it all before, and they've always been wrong! Most of them even had much bigger weapons than that silly bowgun, though we've learned to never underestimate an opponent. So I'm sorry we can't chat, but it's time for the human mincemeat special!"  
  
Gofsef started up the whirlwind punch, and still hanging like some absurd lucky charm there wasn't a thing she could do. It launched and plowed right through the jeep, sending bits of twisted metal flying out. Luckily, it appeared that the lady was just fast enough to avoid being shredded by the crushing blow. However, a building on the side wasn't as lucky, and slid away to crash on the next street over. Looking over the latest bout of wreckage, something struck her investigative sense as wrong- there was a trail of destruction that follow the path of the fist, but there was a thin line running through the rubble perfectly just in front of the jeep that clearly shouldn't have been there.  
  
"How the hell did you dodge my son's fist?! Not even the Stampede could have done it at that range!"  
  
"Because I intervened!"  
  
All heads turned to look at the next addition to the situation. A man in pajamas with an oversized knife was standing across from the collapsed building, on top of the mostly intact one across the street. "Release the Stampede's concubine and face me in battle!"  
  
Wonderful. The screaming insulting man in weird pajamas brandishing the large sharp object wanted to face off with the Nebraskas. If this was the sort of help she was getting today, she'd have been better off staying in her cell.  
  
"Great, a loony wants to take us on? Don't you know that we're the infamous Nebraska family?!"  
  
The sheriff down below shouted out to him as well. "This is too dangerous for civilians! Take cover or leave the area at once!"  
  
"I cannot. The challenge is only half made, to back down now would be dishonorable! Know that my name is Rai-Dei, and now, we fight!"

* * *

Heh, bet you didn't see _that_ one coming!  
  
Wolfwood: I'll say! Didn't I shoot him extremely dead?! I thought you were against resurrections in this fic!  
  
I am, you just didn't shoot him dead _enough_. Don't worry, all shall be explained!  
  
Wolfwood: Then does that mean-  
  
Nope.  
  
Wolfwood: ..._dammit_.  
  


**Reviewer Responses**

  
  
betsytheripper: The Stick may only be wielded by those well-versed in the arts of beatdown-fu. If you're just starting, you'll have to train with The Twig. ¤gives free demonstration of beatdown-fu with Legato's help¤  
  
SapphireWhiteTiggress: I believe the current pop vernacular is "Thompsons are da shiznat, yo."  
  
coffeetin: Entirely self-taught! ¤hides copy of 'How to Win Friends and Influence People'¤  
  
cjflutterbye: Well, I'll foreward the cake, though she might not need it now. Who else could get it...  
  
Sorian: Yep, and now more friends(?) show up!  
  
MidgetMinion: Ah, a new face! Well, I hope this chapter met expectations.  
  
Yma: After acquiring my 'reference materials' ¤coughmagnacough¤, I've noticed that I did go overboard with BDN. Ah well. The familiar faces are on a rampage, so I've got lots of chances for extra screwups! And feel free to tear me a new one when I do, because I can't get better if I don't know what's wrong ;) 


	16. Chapter 15: Hideout

Bit of a break while I worked overtime and retrieved something from the edge of the abyss- tiring, but the money is good. Anyway, I'm back in my comfy writing chair, uh, writing. Onward!  
  
Disclaimer: Spiders all over the room doesn't mean anything. Nope, nothing at all. I hope.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 15: Hideout

  
  
A slight breeze blew down the street, raising some dust from the rubble and dirtier persons present. Of course, it was nowhere close to being a good cleaning, which would undoubtedly require a considerable sum of time, effort, and double dollars. Then a pair of artillery shells landed a bit close for comfort, reminding those present that if anything was to be done, it had better be done right quick before the gunners got range. However, the man in pajamas didn't seem to give the shells a second thought. Or first thought, for that matter- he was ignoring them completely. This just reinforced the overall evidence that this man was a complete, utter, total, all-consuming loon.  
  
_"Somehow, I don't **feel** so."_ The discrepancy between her gut and her logic was considerable, and this was a problem. They usually complemented each other, except when it came to pointy-haired idiots with doughnut cravings. This man wasn't pointy-haired, more shaggy-haired. The idiot part certainly applied. Doughnuts would have to wait until she saw him eat, which if she had her way would be in about, oh, _never_. The only thing that was certain was that he had a very sharp object, which she'd be wise to avoid. However, the feeling she had about him was persistent and menacing. There was something about him that reminded her of Knives, the way he seemed to look down on everyone. Quite frankly, it was giving her the willies. The Nebraskas took to the logical conclusion.  
  
"Rai-dei, eh? Big words- for someone about to be a grease spot! Gofsef, show him your fist of fury!"  
  
The big boy bellowed something that sounded sort of like "Yeah!", though she couldn't really tell. How on Gunsmoke the Nebraskas could understand each other was a mystery she might waste time on if she wasn't preoccupied with trying to break free from the big family. Dangling like she was, there was no leverage, and there wasn't really anything to grip on the massive hand holding her up. She was quite effectively stuck, but a mounting sense of injustice was welling up. Maybe if she got angry enough, she could break the bindings... and fall to the ground which appeared to be hard and strewn with shattered glass. No-go there.  
  
The big boy took the offensive, and launched his fist at the loon. The loon didn't budge, just giving the blade an almost casual horizontal flick as the fist approached. The impact reverberated, shattering all the windows in the building and adding to the unsafe landing conditions below. The loon vanished in the spray of dust kicked up from the building, only to reappear from the cloud a mere moment later. He was airborne, propelled upwards and foreward by the impact just below him. He landed on the cable linking Gofsef to his arm, and darted along it at blinding speed. This forced a reassessment- someone capable of such feats wasn't an ordinary run of the mill loon. She tried to search her memory for any mention of someone by the name of Rai-dei, but the time she had was short.  
  
In any case, he was skilled. He sprang up in a flip as he reached the elbow on the giant, and swept the blade underneath to neatly slice through the cable. Before the big boy even noticed, he had bounced up and over his shoulder, and launched off towards the ground, slowing himself by slashing through the winching backpack. The Nebraskas just stood there for a second, then started to wail. Well, most of them did. Professor Nebraska was yelling at the clan mother to do something, and the clan mother looked fairly furious. Rai-dei may have just taken out a huge mutant mechanical freak in under five seconds, but it was _her_ huge mutant mechanical freak, and the clan mother was going to whoop somebody but good for it. The initial show of flying fists, a mere demonstration of what was to come, hurt like hell. The mountain of motherly fury had evidently forgotten that she was still hanging from a hand, and getting jerked around by the strings at such speeds nearly dislocated her limbs.  
  
"Watch what you're doing, you jerk! I'm still hanging here!"  
  
The mother didn't notice. As her luck would have it, the first real punch directed at Rai-dei had her along for the ride. His blade whipped up, and she found herself faced with the options of getting skewered, crushed into the ground, of merely dragged through the nice layer of broken glass with no choice in which one would actually happen. However, the cruel fates that had plagued her since arriving in the city suddenly decided to be merciful. Rai-dei sprang towards her, and his blade vanished, along with most of his arm. She felt a sudden breeze along each limb, then a brief sensation of free fall before getting shoved back up. The world spun a few times, and once 'up' sorted itself out she found herself slung over Rai-dei's shoulder, peeking out from where his blade's sheath was strapped to his waist, and mostly upside down. The mother's fist had missed them both, but the patch of ground it hadn't missed would be feeling it for a long time. Then she felt where he had a grip on her.  
  
"Move that hand you creep!"  
  
He didn't answer or even acknowledge her. She saw his other hand reach around as if to clamp down on her face, but it instead clamped down on the sheath and pulled it free. She heard a series of gunshots, and blood spurted out from the giant mother's knee. That brought the oversized hulk to the ground, with the daughter barely managing to cling on and not get pitched off. A voice came from behind, commanding yet effeminate.  
  
"Thanks for the assistance, but we need to get out of here. Follow me, and hurry."  
  
Rai-dei turned, and she saw the sheriff woman again. She was beckoning from an alley, then turned to run down it. She found herself yanked foreward for the umpteenth time that day and wailed out a "Put me down!" before a sudden bout of dizziness and another artillery shell impact silenced her protests. She'd wait until she wasn't in imminent danger of being blow to bits then smack Rai-dei for not moving that to-close-to-certain-areas hand, be he her savior or not. He was still amazingly fast even with her draped over a shoulder, and had caught up to the sheriff in seconds. He then knocked over and swept up the sheriff in one quick move, and kept on running without breaking his stride. What was he, one of Milly's brothers? In any case, he now had two irritated women, one over his shoulder and one tucked under the arm on the other side. It was time for the new piece of his luggage to sputter at the inglorious situation.  
  
"What the?! I can run just fine on my own!"  
  
He finally responded. "Time is of uttermost importance. Directions, now."  
  
The sheriff began to bark out the demanded directions, leading them on a dizzying tour of the back alleys and side streets of December. Much as she hated to admit it, they were moving a lot faster than if they were each hoofing it, though every corner was making her swing like a rag doll. He was somehow bouncing off the walls to keep charging full tilt around every corner, and though being mostly upside down was playing havoc with her senses she was fairly sure they had been running sideways on a few walls. He was incredibly skilled, and this didn't bode well with the feelings she had about him earlier. An instruction to enter an upcoming building and get to the third floor was obeyed in reverse- he bounced between two buildings and entered the third floor via a large open window, somehow managing to not smack any passengers against any window frames. There was a gasp from someone inside the room, and he prompted the sheriff for more directions.  
  
"Er, we're here. You can stop now."  
  
She finally felt herself hoisted off the shoulder, which had been starting to dig into her gut. The sheriff was already on her own feet, and shut the window through which they had arrived. Unfortunately, her own feet weren't up to keeping her upright between the upside down jostling that had her balance scrambled, and the intense pain that shot through her limbs. Her downward trip was interrupted as the room's occupant caught her and sat her on a sofa. A glimpse at the face of her benefactor assured her that a moment's rest could be obtained here.  
  
"So, tea anyone?" That smile was firmly in place. She sighed, and let herself sprawl across the sofa before responding.  
  
"Make it coffee, and strong enough to power a sand steamer."  
  
Sara nodded, and walked off towards the kitchen to leave the rest of them to attend to minor injuries of the physical nature. Only one thought managed to run through her head before she phased out. _"Thompsons. What a family."_  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
It was truly amazing what a few cups of coffee could do. Now they were seated around the kitchen table, with respective drinks of choice before each person. They made one heck of an afternoon gathering. To her left was Rai-dei, still in those weird pajamas with a cup of green tea reflecting his scowl back at him. To her right was Marianne, sheriff badge shined up and gleaming as she took a gulp of coffee. Across was Sara, who kept up the Thompson trademark smile while waiting for her raspberry tea to cool. Then there was herself, still in prison stripes and sporting unflattering bracelets while sucking down about half the coffeepot. Good thing Sara was a psychologist- anyone who walked in on this teatime group would need therapy to cope with the scene.  
  
There hadn't been much talk besides the purely functional- "Pass the gauze," "no sugar please," "I only drink green tea." There was a certain surreal aspect to it all, but she could ignore that. However, it couldn't last, even though she was enjoying just acting like a regular human again. So she took a deep breath, and asked The Question.  
  
"So, now what?"  
  
Reality barged back in and made itself at home. Lips were tugged downwards all around, even managing to drag down the Thompson smile of perpetualty. She could have waited another minute, but problems tended to be impatient and would doubtlessly come to get them whether they were ready or not. Better she made sure there was a plan, rather than simply winging it. She almost asked herself what Vash would do, but "simply wing it" was already out. Unfortunately, frowns like these usually meant that "simply wing it" _had_ been the plan until now. Marianne kicked off the brainstorming.  
  
"Well, we need to get you out of the city, and quickly. The search will be underway by now."  
  
Her reply was somewhere between halfhearted and sarcastic. "Evacuate the criminal? That doesn't sound very sheriff-like to me."  
  
"Don't take me wrong. I became a sheriff because I've always had a strong sense of justice, and becoming a lawman was natural. However, what's happening here isn't justice. It's a witchhunt. I couldn't just stand by and let them hang you, so I intended to testify for you. The Nebraskas have since complicated things."  
  
"I don't want to be an outlaw! Can't I just turn myself in?"  
  
"Sara, hit the radio."  
  
The Thompson leaned back and flicked on a small counter radio. It crackled to life in the middle of a broadcast. "-doors. Should anyone spot the fugitive, do not try and apprehend. Alert the authorities at once. We repeat, Derringer Meryl has escaped from the city courthouse less than two hours ago. Martial law is in effect, and all citizens are to remain indoors. Should anyone spot the fugitive-"  
  
Another quick wrist flick had the radio off. "Okay, so they're a bit worked up, but I still don't see why we can't all avoid a lot more trouble down the road when all I have to do is-"  
  
"That was just the civilian bands. The orders on the lawmen and cavalry frequencies are... shoot to kill."  
  
"_WHAT?!_" The chair flew backwards as she bolted up, and their drinks all jumped as her hands came down on the tabletop. Sara got up and retrieved a towel to clean up what spilled.  
  
"I heard it just as the Nebraskas began to run off. Only snipers and artillery were to try and engage, but the Nebraskas move fast for their size. There was a window to get you out before you were put down, so I took it, overmatched as I was. It was a good thing Mr. Dei showed up-"  
  
Their shaggy guest interrupted. "Rai-dei. One name."  
  
"Okay, it's a good thing Mr. Rai-dei showed up, I may be good, but the Nebraskas are in their own league."  
  
"Don't those fools realize I wasn't escaping? I was being _goddamn kidnapped!_"  
  
"Even I still had doubts about that as I set off after the Nebraskas. I saw enough to indicate that it wasn't an escape, but without any recording I doubt they'll believe me. After all, they have managed to get this far without a single shred of evidence. Without anything concrete, my hearsay will get shoved aside by their hearsay."  
  
The fury within her died out, and with it her strength. She sagged back down into the chair, which Sara had been wise enough to pick up and place behind her. The elder Thompson helped her ease down and kept a firm grip on her right hand, even as her head lolled back to stare at the ceiling. Okay, so turning herself in right now was out of the question.  
  
"Any ideas Mr. Rai-dei?"  
  
"I have none that do not involve great loss of life, which my honor will not allow at this time. The forces arrayed around the city are most powerful."  
  
"Surely you aren't suggesting that you could break through the Cavalry lines? Subduing the Nebraskas was one thing, but the Cavalry has gotten a lot stronger in the past two years since Augusta."  
  
"It is no great challenge for one able to enter the ranks of the Gung-ho Guns."  
  
Her head shot back up. "_WHAT?!_" To the side, Marianne echoed her exclamation and wide-eyed stare.  
  
"Until Augusta, I was known as Rai-dei the Blade, ninth member of the Gung-ho Guns."  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Marianne slowly pulling out her gun from its holster. Right then and there, she really wished her derringers were with her.  
  
"Had I intended you harm, you would already be dead. Do nothing foolish."  
  
He was eyeing Marianne's arm. She was beaten before a fight could start, so she sighed and brought her hands up to the table. However, something about what Rai-dei said rattled wrong. It took a few moments to work through his revelation and discover what the discord was.  
  
"You say you _were_ a member on the Gung-ho Guns _until_ Augusta? Did you quit like Wolfwood?"  
  
"Do not speak that name!" His fist thudded on the table, causing another round of spills. "One does not _quit_ the Gung-ho Guns! The only way to leave is by death!"  
  
"Then why the past tense?"  
  
He turned to face her fully, the look in his eyes so intense that she shrank back. His next words were barely audible, hissed from between clenched teeth. "_I died._"  
  
His hand shot out and clenched her wrist. Before she could react, he had shoved her hand through the pajamas and against his chest. She could feel the roughness of a large scar and the warmth of skin, which effectively countered the death claim. Now she was getting annoyed- enough people had been forcing her to move as they liked lately. "Well, I don't see what you intended to do with all this, but if you don't let my hand go _right this instant_ I'll smack you so hard you... you..."  
  
He wasn't letting her hand move, and his expression remained unchanged. She was still feeling the scar and the warmth of his skin, but that was all. Ice suddenly shot through her veins. It couldn't be possible... She stopped trying to pull back, and instead pushed her hand against his chest, trying to feel what she knew had to be there. Nothing but a scar and warm skin made itself known. She shifted her gaze back up to his face.  
  
"There's no heartbeat. How can this be? _You don't have any heartbeat_!"  
  
His expression remained chiseled in stone as he spoke. "My heart was shot through. It can never beat again. My blood flows still because of a mechanical device, but to a warrior such as I, without the pounding of my heart within me I am dead. I am doomed to wander this world as a walking corpse for my incredible dishonor. I sought to become the greatest of warriors, to triumph over the ultimate abyss... And instead I broke, and tried to run like a coward, then seek help like a weakling. Vash the Stampede showed me what a weak and imperfect warrior I was for all my efforts and pride. Now, I must somehow atone for my hubris, so I have started by taking the Stampede's philosophy as my own."  
  
He reached into his pajamas and brought out a book. She knew which one it was without having to read the title. Enough people had been showing it to her lately, but this was one of the last people she expected to pick it up.  
  
"Perhaps if I honor him, he may grant me forgiveness and allow my body to finally rest. Until then, I exist as this empty shell."  
  
He finally let her hand drop away, and turned back to his tea. Silence reigned for long minutes, until Sara made a jab to lighten the mood. "Well, at least we'll have a good rest tonight. Nothing like a new view on things to induce a good sleep!"  
  
Everyone glanced her way as she tried to force a laugh. "You might be a Thompson but you're not Milly... Oh well, at least he's already in pajamas."  
  
"These are _not_ pajamas! They are traditional robes for warriors like I!"  
  
"Still look like pajamas to me..."  
  
A pair of sudden snorts jolted her up from the cooling coffee. Marianne and Sara were practically turning red in the face as they tried unsuccessfully to hold back laughter.  
  
"The origin of this long tradition can be traced back thousands of years! The warrior's robes are a sign of those what can wield a weapon fully! The practice first started- are you listening?!"  
  
Marianne tried to reign in the laughter that was consuming her long enough to blurt out a response. "So, what you're saying is, you always wear fancy pajamas?"  
  
The sheriff descended back into whoops of laughter. Come to think of it, it was pretty funny. Rai-dei's attempts at explanation were just making it worse, and even she began to chortle. By the time he began to proclaim about the proud samurai of ancient Japan, orating like an opera performer to be heard above the racket of the laughter, she had joined the rest of the group in the wonderful outburst.

* * *

I said I had a good reason for bringing back Mr. Screaming Man! And yes, Rai-dei's been wearing his samurai robes _the whole time_. I figured that they'd be rather unusual to most Gunsmoke natives, though once again something developed that was far and beyond what I had initially planned. Just go with the flow, I say.  
  
Legato: This is most unacceptable. There were to be no members of the Gung-ho Guns left alive.  
  
Bite me, blue boy. I'm omnipotent in the author notes.  
  


**Reviewer Responses**

  
  
coffeetin: Meryl just got loaded on the java juice, so the Wrath has not befallen anyone. Yet.  
  
betsytheripper: ¤wipes drool up, then tosses the tissue at Legato¤ Heh, well, since this is still synchronous time with the events in Vash's chapters, he managed to miss it. Mostly. You can find the brief bit he managed to get during the sequence with Knives and Milly at the Warrens City inn. Don't worry, Inepril's all abuzz with Meryl's capture by the law.  
  
MidgetMinion: You mentioned regular updates, and LOOK what happens! I get called in for overtime at work! We must be very quiet about such things, lest the excessively bored gods hear...  
  
cjflutterbye: IRS's Rules to Live By, #46: Never waste a good cake. I'm just waiting for the right moment to use it.  
  
Sorian: If that chapter's scary, then RUN. Run for the hills, and don't look back!  
  
kitsune: ¤takes on the voice of an Utwig¤ ...you're not gonna like me later on. I just know it. Therefore, I can't act on any marriage proposals until the whole thing is done. Consider it an extended engagement.  
  
SapphireWhiteTigress: Yep, they missed one. Sure did indeed, they really missed one! Eh heh heh...  
  
Yma: As you may have guessed, Rai-dei has just been promoted from 'one-episode Gung-ho Gun' to 'hanger-on for the interminable time period'. Hmm... Vash = Lupin, Knives = Jagan, Meryl = Fujiko, Rai-dei = Goeman? Nah... Still funny in any case.

* * *

Foreboding brought to you by the same guy that picked out Legato's theme music. 


	17. Chapter 16: We Want You for the Gunsmoke...

There's a D10 (if you don't know what that is, good for you!) sitting on my desk- for an instant, I had a sudden urge to try and eat it. Apparently it's possible to occasionally lose powers of ten from your age.  
  
Disclaimer: He didn't eat it.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 16: We Want You for the Gunsmoke Cavalry

  
  
The moment of brevity was long past. It had been an excellent release- she couldn't remember the last time she had laughed. It just felt so _good_ to forget for a few seconds everything that had happened or might happen and just laugh at something silly and childish. Now, the grim truth of things was back, and she was in very serious trouble. Not only was she now on the run, she was also boxed in the city. The Cavalry, something she usually trusted to be a force for the good of all was now an almost insurmountable obstacle standing between her and... what, exactly? It was a good question. Assuming she could evade everyone after her skin, what would happen next?  
  
The only saving grace Vash had to protect him was that nobody had ever managed to get a good picture of him. No blurry lenses or thumbs over the shutters were to blame- he just appeared as a complete idiot in every single picture. Even when she had once pointed to a picture of him and said quite clearly that the picture was, indeed, of Vash the Stampede, nobody believed it. A crying man running wildly with a doughnut in each hand and the rest of the box stuffed in his cheeks was _not_ how people pictured the Humanoid Typhoon. Oh no, in their minds he was a ten foot high hell lord who sucked the brains of his victims through a straw. Anonymity was bliss.  
  
She, on the other hand, had no such luck. There must be nearly a dozen official picture IDs of her between Bernardelli and the government office, and plenty of people who knew they weren't fakes. She was also fairly sure that they had a mugshot of her, but most of the prison formalities were a jumbled blur due to her mentally spastic state at the time. Of course, the newspaper had managed to pre-empt every official channel and had a nice, big image of her being led from the prison to the courthouse in a special midday edition. Her "dramatic and daring escape" had been only five hours ago, six tops. In another hour or so, everyone in the city would know exactly what she looked like. She took some pleasure from smudging up the front of the December Daily while tweaking the only other item on the sheet to fit in with the rest of the story on it. _"Tomorrow's Weather: High tempers with bullets from the north-northeast at 200 iles per hour."_  
  
She dismissed the one-page edition with an irritated huff that sent it scuttling to the floor, to land at the foot of the one wildcard in her otherwise dismal hand- Rai-dei the Blade. She could believe he was part of the Gung-ho Guns back in Augusta with ease. After all, the skill he had shown in dispatching the Nebraskas and in their own subsequent getaway placed him squarely in that class. What she couldn't be sure of were his motivations and true allegiance. He purported to be following Vash's philosophy now, but the degree to which Knives would make plans was without limit. There was a very real possibility he was another Wolfwood, sent to befriend and keep tabs on her until such time as the orders changed. Thus was the nature of this wildcard- he could guard her or gut her, and change in a moment. However, the simple fact was that she needed him now.  
  
Right now, the December Lawmen and the Gunsmoke Cavalry were searching the city for her. With their combined manpower, there was enough to not only keep the city encircled, but to sweep right across it. Marianne was being an ear, having tinkered with Sara's kitchen radio until it could receive the military bands. She was trying to locate any holes in the line they could slip through, but the constant barrage of reports on her impending doom had driven her out of the kitchen. They'd reach this building sometime around midnight, and even if she left for the unsearched portion of the city there would only be another day or so before she was out of space to hide in. That didn't count the vigilantes who had spontaneously sprung up despite the martial law clampdown, who were active pretty much everywhere. The radio was beginning to seriously bug her with each new report of a clear area, as the forces of law and order tightened around her like a noose. She rapidly shook her head to toss out the thought- no thinking of gallows, or firing squads, or... Dammit. She needed something else to think about, and she needed it _now_.  
  
"I need a distraction."  
  
"I do not believe that such a tactic would be of use. The skill and speed with which the enemy is moving-"  
  
"Not _that_ kind of distraction. I need something else to think about."  
  
"The task at hand should be the sole focus of your energies if you are to survive. To waste time on other matters is foolishness. Indeed-"  
  
This time he was cut off by two fingers to his lips that appeared to gently hold them shut, though the person doing the maneuver might be crushing them if she was anything like her little sister in the strength department. In any case, Sara had shut him up.  
  
"So, are you planning on getting married to Vash?"  
  
"_What_?" That took her off guard. Come to think of it, that was the next logical step for their relationship... Things had just been so hectic that it never crossed her mind. They had already been together, more or less, for years. The recent intimacy just grew out of that so naturally that marriage seemed insignificant- not that Gunsmoke was bursting with married couples to begin with. It was a luxury of civilization, brought along from Earth all those years ago, and on this hunk of rock it was one many people simply never bothered with. It occurred to her that since Vash had been born back on the original ships, he would probably insist on it. The only mystery was why he hadn't suggested it to her already. Wait, wasn't a marriage accompanied with a big party? That would be expensive...  
  
"Well, I never really thought about it before now... I guess I'll have to talk with him about it."  
  
"Forgive me, but you don't seem very enthusiastic about the idea."  
  
"It's just that beyond a change of name and a tax break, there doesn't seem to be much to-"  
  
"Don't say such things!" Sara's voice took on a pained edge, and her eyes watered slightly. "I know marriage isn't widespread like in the old days, but to me and Richard it's very important. Back in my old hometown, one of the few things we had was the traditions we brought from Earth, so we've always placed a lot more value on such things than most other places. It hurts a bit to hear people not place such value in something that deserves it."  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't know."  
  
"Well, then I'll tell you what it means to me, and then you'll know! To me, marriage means a promise to remain with someone forever. It creates a link that can't be broken by time or distance, and it lets love transcend even death. I don't even think we have the right words yet to express just how incredible it is... And it gives the couple a physical token to represent all those feelings, to remind them that they're never alone no matter what happens."  
  
"It sounds wonderful." A thought crossed her mind then- _"A physical token? Is that why Milly keeps the Cross Punisher with her?"_ Surely she hadn't married Wolfwood! Milly would have probably been running all over to announce it if she had, and _surely_ there would have been some activity to mark it- her own limited knowledge on the subject still let her know that you needed a priest to perform the ceremony, and they... Oh. Curiosity began to rage inside her, but given the importance Sara clearly placed on this subject, the going would be touchy. Time to be evasive and hope this Thompson wouldn't find out what she really meant like Milly would.  
  
"So, just what is this physical token?"  
  
"This ring." The elder Thompson held out her hand, and she could see a single silvery ring adorning it. Well, she had never seen anything of the sort on Milly, so that pretty much resolved that. "Richard has one too, and it's good because we're often apart. His work keeps him moving around a lot."  
  
"Moves around a lot? That reminds me of someone I know, though he wanders mostly because he can't ever stay in one place without getting in trouble."  
  
"Vash, right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I wonder if he's even met Richard, since he moves around taking care of trouble."  
  
"Some sort of charity work?"  
  
"No, he's in the Cavalry. The same unit as my older brother, which was actually how we met in the first place."  
  
"A Thompson in the Cavalry? I don't see that happening."  
  
"Well, we _are_ a rather large family, and his unit isn't exactly what you'd call an ordinary Cavalry regiment. Due to..."  
  
Sara trailed off. The Thompson grin was back, and this time it had a certain spice to it that on Milly meant she was planning something sneaky. Before she could inquire, Sara was up and out, heading for the kitchen. She followed, and Rai-dei followed her. That made twice that he had followed her to a new room, and it pretty much confirmed that he was interested in her. Whether that would be good or bad would all come out in time. For now, she entered the kitchen and glared at the radio as it broadcast yet another report on the Meryl-hunt's progression.  
  
"Which Cavalry regiments are in the city?"  
  
Marianne looked up at them from the city map she was pouring over, and had evidently seen this grin enough to know that a plot was afoot. "The second, fourth, and ninth fast response mounted are around the city, the first and fourth general units are conducting the search, and the third general is covering the sand steamer dock."  
  
Sara's grin grew. "Is there still a clear path to the dock?"  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
There had to be better methods than this. The idea was sound, but it would be a whole lot more likely to work if they could just talk beforehand. As a sheriff, she could simply walk on over and get introductions done before shooting would start. She trusted Sara to know what she was doing, but this was a bit farfetched. However, it was right up her alley in the skills required, and it was their best chance for getting out thus proposed that didn't have a body count attached. She was going outside the law by a wide margin with this, but there _were_ bounds to what she would do, and raising arms against her fellows was one of them.  
  
As they made their way across the city, following the back alleys and unchecked streets, the first part of the plan was working. The armed vigilantes weren't doing more than casting a glance at them, since the three of them looked fairly in place given the situation. A lawman, a cavalry soldier, and another vigilante operating together was actually producing quite a few noticeable looks of relief. Of course, the reality was far from the appearance. The lawman and the vigilante were quite authentic- a cloak of truth, to keep anyone from looking too closely at the cavalry soldier.  
  
Beneath the too-large uniform and hat, the unfortunate source of all this attention was slipping by right under the collective noses of the untrained and unorganized civilians. The disguise was working well, just so long as Meryl didn't get any urges to look around and lift the hat brim. Sara just happened to have a nearly complete Cavalry uniform- a bonus of having her man in the Cavalry. It lacked the sidearm and badges that a fully dressed cavalryman would have, but it still worked against these bumblers.  
  
Their target wasn't far ahead, and that was where the problems were most likely to start. The cliff that the extensive December docking complex was built into loomed above, bathed in the light from the moons. The glow made the multiple parked steamers stand out like ominous dark monoliths. She wasn't one for portents, but that did not bode well. Then again, neither did the appearance of a Gung-ho Gun, former or not. By all rights, she should arrest him on the spot, but circumstance and his own ideals seemed to be punishing him far more than most verdicts.  
  
In any event, the hinge of the entire plan was coming up. The checkpoint at the gate to the sand steamer complex was manned by real Cavalry soldiers- the disguise wouldn't fool them under the sort of scrutiny they were about to receive. If things didn't go well, it could cost her career, or even her life, but it was simply the right thing to do. She had no regrets. Justice was her cause, and she had risked everything for it on a number of occasions. However, being caught between justice and the law was ripping at her badly. Why couldn't things be simple like in the past, and _not_ have the two hand-in-hand forces in a rare moment of opposition?  
  
As their group approached the checkpoint, a soldier came out to meet them. The rifle he carried looked plenty deadly, though he held it gingerly- a fresh recruit? He looked rather old to have just joined, though one could never tell for sure. In any case, she had to get his attention before he noticed that their Cavalry soldier wasn't just a little short for a trooper. As he came closer, she waved him to her.  
  
"This is a restricted area. I'll need to see your orders and identification."  
  
She kept her voice low enough that he was the only one who heard. "We don't have either."  
  
"What? All Cavalry should always have..." He trailed off as he noticed that the 'soldier' with them was rather lacking in more than just stature. She sprang foreward with her next statements, hoping to keep him from getting too worked up.  
  
"Yes, that's not actually a Cavalry member. We're trying to get her to safety, and we've run out of options. I hate to dump this on your feet, but could you please just let us pass?"  
  
Meryl's voice came up from under the wide brimmed hat. "I don't want to die."  
  
The soldier stood there, transfixed. They had used the truth, as it was all they had to use. Their fate was in his hands now. He could shout out and the hail of bullets would start- she might make it out with Rai-dei's help, but that would be it for Meryl. Sunrise wouldn't see her except as a corpse.  
  
"So, you just came here, intending to ask for your life...?"  
  
"Yes." The response floated out from under the hat again. The soldier closed his eyes and nodded, all of a sudden seeming to gain years to his age. He held up a hand and called out.  
  
"They're here to see the commander, open the gate!"  
  
As the hastily erected fence was dragged aside with a great deal of clatter, he muttered out of the side of his mouth. "Go see the commander. He should be up near the _Archangel_. He'll help you out."  
  
"Thanks, Mr..."  
  
"It doesn't matter. Just go. With luck, we can do introductions later. For now, just stay alive, for those that would be left behind should you die..."  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
They passed through the gate without incident, and were now inside the sand steamer complex. The plan now called for them to stowaway on some steamer, but her sense of duty steered her towards one in particular that cast an especially fearful shadow across the land. All they needed were directions to find it, which she could obtain easily on her own- no need for Meryl to stick her neck out again. They slipped aboard, and she was thankful that security was rather lax for this one. Of course, that might have something to do with the fact that nearly the entire steamer was occupied by the bulk of the 3rd General Regiment of the Gunsmoke Cavalry. They made it to the commander's room without incident, which was odd considering Rai-dei was certainly an unusual sight. Of course, the soldiers were rather motley all around. Variations on the uniform were all over, and several were practically out of uniform completely, regulations or not. This was no way to run a regiment.  
  
She knocked on the door. A voice shouted a "Come in!" through the metal, so she twisted the handle and entered. The commander's room was a reflection of the state of the regiment- quite a mess. A poor orderly was trying to sweep the desk into something that gave a semblance of organization, but without a larger trashcan or filing cabinet the effort was futile. The cat that was pacing across the desk didn't help matters any.  
  
"I'm looking for the regiment commander, do you-"  
  
"Right here."  
  
She squinted at the orderly, then noticed that the rank insignia on his shoulders had way too many bars for an orderly. "_You're_ the commander? No offense, but you look rather... young."  
  
"Yeah, well, with the right determination, support, and a pinch of luck, I was propelled through the ranks and ended up here. Not that things have ever been done quite normally in this regiment!"  
  
He had a good laugh at that. Oddly, it felt like the joke was on her- he looked even younger than herself, and to be commanding a regiment? The upper echelon had to be going a bit daft, or rather, the prior commander of this regiment- they usually choose their successors to keep the regiment command flowing smoothly, but in this case it appeared to have been severely FUBARed. His laughter died down as he looked around to the people behind her, and eyes widened in recognition.  
  
"Meryl Stryfe?"

* * *

Legato: The author has grown tired, so I am in command until such time as he returns. This moment seemed the best to end the chapter, as the mystery shall torment you until next time with unsatiable curiosity.  
  
¤shouting drifts in from down the hall¤ Somebody turn off this $%&$#) collar!  
  
Legato: Ignore the voices. You hear nothing.  
  


**Reviewer Responses**

  
  
betsytheripper: The collar seems to have been, er, misplaced. And Legato's theme music was chosen by that person. ¤points in the general direction of Japan¤  
  
coffeetin: I'll set the prozac next to the rest of his meds, now if he'd only take them... And Meryl has her own little group of misfits now, which will undoubtedly prove useful, or at the least entertaining.  
  
cjflutterbye: Knives shall return, never fear! Okay, maybe a little fear would be prudent... In any case, we're still following Meryl around for now, so no Knives just yet.  
  
SapphireWhiteTigress: And thus it plods foreward. The storymobile runs on reviews, without them it grinds to a halt.  
  
Sorian: ¤Rai-dei bursts in¤ They are traditional robes, _not pajamas_! 


	18. Chapter 17: Dark Revelation

I'm kicking this one off practically right as I upload the last chapter. Of course, I've got all those _words_ to get through before I reach the end of this chapter, and anything could happen along the way!  
  
Disclaimer: Delays may occur if the Ur-Quan attack.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 17: Dark Revelation

  
  
The commander practically lept over his desk to reach her. Before she could even think of a course of action, he had her wrapped up in a hug accompanied with a few hearty backslaps, acting nothing at all like she expected a regiment commander to act. Or smell, for that matter. _"Is that perfume?"_  
  
"I've been worried sick ever since we got the kill on sight orders! This is an immense relief to have you here."  
  
"Uh, thanks..."  
  
"Well, you can rest easy now, you're among friends, or at least people who won't shoot you."  
  
That was the best statement she'd heard since setting foot on the steamer to December, and she permitted herself a moment to bask in it. When the moment passed, it was time to start asking questions. This time around, she hoped the answers were either good or at least not dealing with imminent death.  
  
"It's been a while since I've seen someone actually happy to see me. Can I ask why?"  
  
"What, don't you recognize me?"  
  
She ran her appraising eye over him. Young, male, moderate build, no visible scars, clean shaven, light brown hair. It was little to go on, but out of the few Cavalry members she knew, this wasn't one of them. "I'm sorry, but I don't."  
  
He nodded, returning to the desk. "I'm not surprised. I've grown a lot these past few years. I'd expect Vash to recognize me if anyone would from back then. I was around him a bit longer, though it was still really short. I was around him just enough to learn what sort of man he really is."  
  
Okay, that did explain a few things. However, she still needed the "Who?", "What?", and "When?" of things.  
  
"I'm still in the dark here. Just who are you?"  
  
"Commander Julius of the 3rd General Cavalry, though back when we met _I_ was the one being hunted. Seems like our fortunes have been reversed for this meeting, though I would have hoped things would be better."  
  
"That's an understatement. They're trying to kill me out there!"  
  
"Yeah, we sort of figured that out what with the order and all. I was only being hunted for my arm, not my life." He rolled up the sleeve on his uniform, and the memories came back to her as she gazed at the abstract symbols etched upon it.  
  
"You're the kid Milly and Vash helped escape the caravan, aren't you?"  
  
"That's me. So, how are they? Are they trapped in the city too?"  
  
"No, we split up when I got recalled."  
  
"So they're outside this mess? Thank goodness. How are they doing?"  
  
A cough interrupted their discourse. She had almost forgotten about Marianne and Rai-dei, and though the Gung-ho Gun seemed content to fade into the metal, the sheriff certainly wasn't. "Sorry. Marianne, Rai-dei, this is Julius. Julius, Marianne the sheriff and Rai-dei the Blade."  
  
Marianne stuck out her hand while Rai-dei gave a short bow. "Pleased to make your acquaintance." "Hai."  
  
Julius pumped the hand, and mimicked the bow. "Uh, hi."  
  
Rai-dei went back to rivaling the walls in terms of non-movement, while Marianne kept her foot in the conversation by steering it back to the present.  
  
"It's great to have old friends meet, but we're not out of the city yet."  
  
Julius winked at them. "I'd say you're fairly safe here. I think I can persuade the quartermaster to get a cabin for you, which should keep you out of sight until we depart. After that, you can jump out anywhere along our route."  
  
Finally! Relief washed over her, feeling better than a hot shower. He got up and left the office, wagging his hand over his shoulder to have them follow. They moved all of ten yarns down the corridor before he was through another door. As she came up on it, she noted the recently applied sign by the door- _"Julius, Regiment Commander. Moore, Regiment Quartermaster."_ Well, that certainly made persuading the quartermaster easy enough.  
  
The room itself appeared to be the suite for the steamer captain, though most of the space was just that- empty space. There was a bed, a table, some chairs, and an adornment of items along one wall that made this just-occupied place more of a home than her own apartment. Her eyes flitted from one to the next. A picture from not long after the two of them escaped the caravan, with the pair looking like smiling fools in some town in the boonies. A gunrack that carried a rusted shotgun and a pair of identical polished pistols. A series of news clippings and other written errata- "Cavalry Soldier Captures Smith Brothers", "Bandit Attack Thwarted", "3rd Cavalry Breaks Fondrique Slavery Ring", "Commander Julius Youngest Regiment Commander", "3rd Cavalry Volunteers for Armored Deployment". Two massive group pictures of the regiment, apparently some sort of yearly tradition if the "3rd General Cavalry- 87th Year" and "3rd General Cavalry- 88th Year" captions meant what she thought they did. From the looks of things, Vash would have fit right in with the pictured groups- almost half of the soldiers were doing something undignified, and the other half were suffering the first half's hand-antlers and other pranks.  
  
As she scanned the glaring evidence of total lack of discipline among the rank and file, a small group of three soldiers towards the side in the first picture caught her eye. One was massive and had the other two caught up in headlocks under each arm. One of the poor soldiers in the headlocks was none other than Julius, though he seemed not to mind- the picture caught him in mid-laugh. However, it was the grin on the burly figure that had originally attracted her attention. _"It has to be genetic."_ Quite certain that the burly man was the Thompson who joined the Cavalry, she was startled to see commander's bars on his uniform. No wonder the unit was so laid back.  
  
A finger snap by her head jolted her back to the people currently present. Marianne was at her side, looking slightly concerned. "You still with us?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, just saw a familiar face."  
  
"You've been staring at that stuff for almost ten minutes. You have a room now."  
  
_"Ten minutes?"_ As she looked around, she finally spotted the new person in the room. She must be really off kilter to have missed so much, but then she remembered all that she'd gone through since waking up. Her adventure in the mental realm, the start of her trial, her kidnapping, being saved by a Gung-ho Gun of all people, the manhunt for her, hours of frantic thinking and planning, and a hike across the city. _"My, I've been busy today."_  
  
No sooner had she thought it than she felt her eyelids gain ten pounds. Each. "I hate to be a bother, but could someone get me to bed?" And before anyone could respond, the last of her adrenaline ran out, leaving her to slump against the wall. As she slid to the floor, she silently berated herself for not eating something that day. _"Even Vash knows not to get chased on an empty stomach."_  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
It had been nearly a week since coming aboard, and she had spent almost the entire time cooped up in a cabin. Not that the time was wasted on rivet counting, oh no- between all of her running around, not eating well, assorted cuts and scrapes, and general stress, most of the past week had been spent bedridden with what the regiment's doctor called a moderate infection, but what she called pure unadulterated hell. How was someone supposed to have a fever if they were _so damn cold_, and why wouldn't the room stop that infernal spinning? It had gotten better in recent days, but she continued to languish. At least the regiment's cook knew a thing or two about feeding wounded or ill people. She had been sending a slurry her way that while practically drinkable and easy to digest, tasted like warmed over Thomas droppings once taste reentered her list of useable senses. The urge to get away from the slime and back to the real food she occasionally smelled over the ventilation system was probably doing more for her than the antibiotics.  
  
Rai-dei was making himself useful, and surprisingly so. As the only one of the group that didn't have obligations to fulfill in the outside world other than the ones he placed upon himself, he was often her only company. After all, while Julius said that the 3rd wouldn't toss her to the sandworms, prudent action meant keeping her residence on the ship as quiet as possible. Even bringing in the doctor had been done reluctantly when her condition continued to decline, and while the cook knew there was someone sick, she was unaware of just who it was beyond a guest of the commander. That left her in the company of the Gung-ho Gun for most of the day, and he attended to her with a diligence that she could hardly believe. The damp cloth on her forehead was always fresh, when she was too weak to move unassisted he kept her turned to avoid bedsores, and when nature insisted he carried her to the bathroom. The real surprise was that he never took advantage of her vulnerable state. No oogling, no feeling up, not even so much as a improper word. When she finally confronted him about it, his response was not what she expected...  
  


§§§  


  
He had just finished changing the cloth draped across her forehead. Early afternoon rays of sunlight were coming through the porthole, and while tired she couldn't sleep at the moment. Boredom was again her enemy, and she finally turned to one alternative she had been wondering and worrying about for some time.  
  
"Rai-dei..."  
  
He turned one eye to her, attentive.  
  
"Why haven't you... you know..."  
  
He remained immobile, a slight questioning look on his face.  
  
"I can't protect myself..."  
  
The Gung-ho gun sighed and shut his eyes. He dragged a chair over, cutting through the beam of light from outside and sat by her bed.  
  
"It is not something any Gung-ho Gun would do. The impulse to do such things lies within the corrupt heart of humanity, and all those who joined the Gung-ho Guns realized this. We distanced ourselves from the wretched humanity that we are cursed to be, as much as it is possible. We each went our own way in doing so. I sought to become the pure warrior, to _be_ the blade that I carry, and thus escape this human form. Others sought to carve away the flesh that they believed to be their humanity, and replaced it with unliving metal. However, for all our efforts, it is but a facade before the wretched truth. We _are_ human, and that can never be changed. Any offspring would not carry our realization of the truth, only our wickedness. Thus, we purged ourselves of all intent to reproduce, and with it went all the improper urges and manifestations thereof that plague a human to multiply at any cost."  
  
A silence hung in the air like the innumerable dust specks that spun and shone in the sunbeams. He continued on.  
  
"I do not mind the insinuation. It only shows your own awareness of humanity's wickedness, and this is good. I can see why you are only attracted to Vash-San, as he is not a human. _They_ are so gloriously free of the imperfection that damns humanity. I believe that, had you never met Vash-San, you may have..."  
  
"I may have what?"  
  
He looked up at the glowing porthole, almost wistfully. "In time, you may have also been admitted to the ranks of the Gung-ho Guns."  
  


§§§  


  
Her insides still churned at the memory. She had been torn between feelings of pity for him, rage at the suggestion, and fear that it might have been true, and _then_ she realized that those were the same feelings that were being thrown at her by the populace. As far as the Joe on the street went, she was already considered to _be_ one of those brutal assassins. Finally, a last fact ran through her head and would have left her a crumpled heap had the illness not beaten it to the punch. _"Rai-dei isn't anything like a brutal assassin... He could be right. Damn it all, he could be **right**..."_  
  
He said nothing more the remainder of that day. Neither of them did. Uncertainties and "what if"s plagued her. Ultimately, she could bury them for a while, but they would have to be resolved. She actually had the means to do so, thanks to Vash knocking something loose in her head. Once the illness was past, she would /look/, and find out for sure.

* * *

¤IRS returns to the author's seat, sporting a spiffy new electricity-induced afro¤ Well, this is getting good. Yet another little thing has blown up in my face to something far more than I had anticipated, and this time it's been pumped full of ideas thanks to the Shotgun of Philosophy! (Use sparingly.) Curiously enough, The Plan™ has not changed much since I first started, which is odd considering how much happens along the way.  
  
Anyway... Legato's now having fun with a Grue. I'm not too sure what's happening, but the screaming is nice.  
  


**Reviewer Responses**

  
  
cjflutterbye: And we end up with _another_ pair of faces from the past, and I'm by no means done. With this sort of cast, I'll have to start killing them off to get adequate screen time! ...er, that was a joke...  
  
coffeetin: Correctional Measures have been initiated with regards to Legato. As for telepathy, the exact answers are intertwined with future plot developments so I must reluctantly decline to answer at this time. Just look at it this way: You're too perceptive for your own good :)  
  
Sorian: No, the voices are perfectly normal. Well, except for the one that says "Eat the D10!"  
  
betsytheripper: Thanks for the save, though it was too late for my last hairstyle. I also have some sort of 70s cop show theme following me around... If I could find the band, I'd tell them to go back to Sephiroth and follow him around or whatnot. Or at a minimum play his theme instead.  
  
SapphireWhiteTigress: The interest level should continue to grow for quite some time. And to think I was worried about hitting doldrums, only to have a typhoon smack me from behind. 


	19. Chapter 18: The 3rd Cavalry Regiment

Wonderous joy. I get to work on a double load tonight, thanks to the _last_ truck arriving seven and a half hours late. At least there'll be overtime...  
  
Disclaimer: More money assuages all problems.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 18: The 3rd Cavalry Regiment

  
  
Private Matthew Gunter was, to be polite, rather... odd. He kept to himself, not interacting much the rest of the regiment, and usually kept his uniform a size too small. It was all due to his problem, which he tried to hide from his comrades in arms and had actually done so quite successfully. Of course, it was far easier to hide the problem on the sand steamer. Thus it was that he was cooped up in the port foreward primary ventilation tube, crawling along through the cramped space and dim lighting, and greatly enjoying the travel as a whole.  
  
You see, the poor man was rather agoraphobic. Or to be blunt, wide open spaces scared the piss out of him. He found the enclosed space of the ventilation system to be a great place to scuttle around in, since it had all the qualities he liked in a place- namely, that there wasn't much room in it for anything but himself. It was also interesting to poke around and peer through the grates to see what was there. He could probably navigate the ship better through the ductwork than through the halls by now, knowing how to get from his quarters (again a small room that he shared with three other men) to the meal room, the bridge, any cargo bay, the engine room, and the gunnery mounts.  
  
Of course, his travels weren't exactly secret. He had popped out of the system all over the place upon reaching dead ends, and plenty of people saw him. For the most part, whenever anyone asked "Why are you crawling through the vents?", he just replied "Why not?" and hopped back in. Of course, this led to some riffing as the story crept around the ranks, though most of it was good humored- the occupied rooms had plastered various items over the vents so he couldn't peer in, most of which were simple hoods, though his favorite was the one on a quarters towards the starboard side- the occupants had hung a folder in front of the vent labeled 'Classified Material- Do Not Look'. It just beat out the yellow curtain on another.  
  
Of course, it was a shame that he couldn't peek into the women's shower room anymore...  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
Technical Specialist Ruddy "Robot" Mayers was really enjoying his briefings these days. He was assigned to engine control during the transition, and was learning the ins and outs of the system that powered the steamer. It was, simply put, an incredible piece of work. The steam tubes, the power conduits, the plant interface, and the really cool giant turbines and flywheels were all connected and compressed into just the bottom third of the ship. It was insanely complex, and he wouldn't have it any other way. The central control panel for all engineering functions curved around half the room, and was filled to the brim with gauges, indicator lights, and so many switches and dials that it looked like a parts warehouse had barfed. To him, it was a merry display of power, control, and ingenuity, not to mention the thrum of energy that pulsed like a giant's heartbeat through the walls and floor.  
  
Today was a special day- his last day of training before he was fully qualified to operate the oversized gadget, though it was mostly a technicality at this point. He had taken to it right away, and the veteran engineer that was instructing him and the other two about-to-be shift chiefs had been impressed. Of course, it was all due to how he approached the task. He treated the systems like they were alive, the precious balance between all the opposing forces threatening to falter. He almost felt like he was merged with the ship itself when he stood before the controls. His fingers danced, adjusting a valve here, cutting in extra cooling there, all in some slow motion waltz.  
  
Even the trickiest task became so simple- regulating the output of the plant that powered the entire thing was second nature. Some of the guys had mentioned something about the plants being described as living, thinking things in some book from a conversation he had overheard during lunch. It certainly made sense to him. The globe contained _something_ that nobody really understood anymore, not since the Great Fall. He would go down to the plant itself on his off hours, and would talk to it if nobody was around. Whether there really was something able to listen to him in there or not was unimportant. He felt there was, and until somebody could give him a definite 'No' he'd continue to do so.  
  
His turn at the console came up, and his fingers danced again with whatever there may be.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
Corporal Evete Rez-sous gave the hotplate a splash of oil before tossing on a massive slab of meat. It hissed and sputtered just right, so she turned away and checked on the huge stewpot one heater over. It too was bubbling nicely, so she cast a glance over the rest of her kitchen staff and noted that the new guy was still placing the rolls too close together before sticking them in the oven. If they came out only half baked, she'd chew him out once the soldiers were done chewing through the underdone bread. Of course, it was to be expected. Feeding some two hundred hungry men and women was no easy task, and considering how vital it was to the well-being of the regiment she _ought_ to be a few ranks higher. They'd all pour in at once, expecting a meal worthy of kings, and when done they'd leave her with the dishes.  
  
Bunch of ingrates. Each and every one of them had done something at some point to tick her off, and would then learn how much power was contained in her lanky frame. All except for the old commander. Somehow, he had never forgotten to send her a smile and a word of thanks for the food she'd slave over to prepare, even when things got hectic. If he ever _did_ forget, she'd take it as a sign that the world was about to end or worse. The new commander, on the other hand, had managed to grate on her nerves when she first met him a good while back. He was a green recruit, tossed on over to the 3rd since it was the dumping grounds of the Cavalry. He had ignored her completely coming through the mess line, and since the pressure had been building all day she ended up erupting on him and the future quartermaster. Funny thing was, afterwards the two of them came back and helped her with the cleanup, and she softened up towards them for their effort. It was their little game now- if he forgot to thank her for the food, she'd get help with the dishes.  
  
Sadly, it appeared that tonight she'd be doing it all. He'd been extra thankful for her help with his sick guest, and all the effort she'd been putting into her "Sick Man's Special" stew. All he said about the guest was that it was someone important, so that probably meant some weaseling official looking for a private, cheap, and safe transport across the sand. The nit would probably leave without even seeing her. Well, a guest of the commander was a guest of the commander, and if they were genuinely ill she certainly wasn't about to give them anything second-rate. After all, she would give it her all to keep anyone in her regiment at the peak of performance. All in all, it was one strange thing to act like they were made of glass one moment and then wail on them the next.  
  
It earned her the nickname 'Mom', and she wore it with pride.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
Gunner First Class Susan Lloyd hadn't expected to get anywhere in the Cavalry. Historically, most women would get sent to the 5th regiment right after applying, since it was the legendary Amazon unit. However, 'legendary' meant that they had strict standards about who could get in- you had to be: 1) A woman, which she was, and 2) You had to be hella tough, which she wasn't. She didn't even approach just regular tough, and was rejected. Of course, there were plenty of positions open for clerks, nurses, and kitchen staff among the other regiments, but having been born and raised to be something that encompassed all three of those tasks she had no desire to end up in any of them. She wanted to be a fighter, but had few of the physical requirements. She was nearly at the end of her rope when the recruiter suggested the 3rd rather sardonically. The rest of the staff laughed, but if it was a chance for her, she'd take it.  
  
Her first impression of the 3rd was that it was a joke. The recruiter mentioned that it had a bad reputation, and her first sight of Commander Thompson was less than inspiring. He was completely drunk and passed out at her feet, but not before proclaiming that he could indeed handle another round of drinks and an entire cake to boot. As the rest of the company dragged him off, she found out that he had been floored by only two. When she introduced herself to the next highest ranking officer, he grabbed a whole gallon of coffee and poured it down the commander's throat. He practically jumped awake a minute later, then crashed again. He kept alternating that way throughout the interview, though at the end he did say yes.  
  
Her spirits had dropped when she realized that the 3rd was the traditional dumping grounds for inept recruits that wanted to serve but lacked the discipline, ability, or both. A few questions got her the basic history of the 3rd- it was the last of the initial regiments of the Cavalry to be formed. The 1st got all the well connected recruits, the 2nd got the Joe Nobodys that had skill and discipline, and the 3rd got everybody else. They knew from the very start some eighty eight years ago that they were intended as a joke, so they decided to give it one hell of a punchline.  
  
Undisciplined? Fine. We don't need no stinking discipline. Unskilled? Feh, just means you need to be creative. Both? Come on in, we don't turn away anyone.  
  
They moved her around from place to place among the various duties that would place her in a fighting role. Rifle recoil practically yanked the guns from her hands. Thomases hurt to ride, and had a tendency to throw her off. She couldn't even manage a simple jeep, managing to blow the transmission on one in under a minute. She was getting incredibly depressed by then, and was about ready to go crawl back home and beg forgiveness. That was when the 3rd showed its true colors.  
  
They wouldn't let her just roll over and declare it futile. For all their bad rap, there were a few things they had. They had a desire to help. They had a mighty will that made up for their shortcomings. They had each other. If someone could do just one thing well, that was their contribution. If someone needed help with that one thing, you jumped right in and _did it_. That one thing could be usual or unusual- sharpshooting, riding, cooking, listening, talking, _anything_. You just had to be willing to fall flat on your face a few times, and they'd always be there to pick you up and brush you off. The 3rd was the regiment where you could be what you wanted to be, or what you could be, as long as you kept going.  
  
So she picked herself up and kept on trying until she hit pay dirt. It was more or less literal. She was stuck in a jeep-mounted light artillery cannon, and asked to hit a marked mound of sand. She twisted the massive gun around, lined it up, and inverted the mound with a nearly perfect shot. It turned out to be her calling- she wasn't on the front line, but she was right behind them, ready to turn anything too tough for small arms fire into twisted slag.  
  
It was all because of the 3rd that she ended up as something she wanted to be rather than something relegated to her. She was part of their family now, able and willing to take on any challenge with her 2" cannon. Of course, with the recent reorganization for the armored deployment, she had to trade in her 2". It would have been depressing, if she hadn't gained a 16" in exchange, as well as a promotion, and a gun crew.  
  
She could hardly wait for the order to blow the shit out of something.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
In a mostly private cabin, the occupant awoke from what looked to be a fairly restful midday nap. However, no napping had taken place. The body simply became inert as attention was directed /outside/. The passing scenery had nothing to do with what was /outside/- rather, the passing thoughts did.  
  
The effort had been considerable to glean a few brief glimpses into the psyches that surrounded her. She couldn't actually /touch/ any of them, and most were too far away to even /look/ into. However, she had managed to /look/, and what she had seen brought a smile of satisfaction to her face. It couldn't be maintained long, as the mental effort left her exhausted along with the physical exhaustion from the vestiges of the illness. There was time for a pair of thoughts to pass through her before she rolled over and took a real nap.  
  
_"Rai-dei's wrong about humanity. I think he's also wrong about me."_  
  
Thus assured, her sleep was deep, restful, and devoid of nightmares.

* * *

As you may have noticed, this was another 'through the eyes of the little people' chapter, though they had a hitchhiker looking over their shoulders. In the meantime, I've devised a punishment for Legato that's much, _much_ worse than having your face eaten by a Grue.  
  
¤cuts to Legato¤ "Hello, welcome to Wal-mart." ¤cuts back¤  
  
Whew, now _that's_ horrible. He's only twisted two people into pretzels so far, though he can't stop until he's earned enough to pay for the hair gel.  
  


**Reviewer Responses**

  
  
Sorian: Nuh-uh, Mr. Samurai has too much of that blade stuck where the sun don't shine.  
  
betsytheripper: It was one sitting out on my desk. I have a whole bag of various D4-D20s. Wolfwood's been staring through the author's viewport at the future chapters. You know, the ones that have Milly in them.  
  
cjflutterbye: Yeah, /looking/ can be hazardous. Most brains aren't washed, which means they're absolutely disgusting >:)  
  
coffeetin: Karma in action. And yeah, I think Midvalley said it best himself: "...plays the greatest music on the greatest stage of all." As I see it, he tried to become his music, and when have you heard of music doin' it?  
  
SapphireWhiteTigress: I time my updates to be precisely 'whenever'. It's all part of being evil.  
  
MidgetMinion: Oh, I'll be forging on into a lot of unexplored, or at least rarely traveled territory. Anyone's guess as to how it'll all play out (even me).  
  
Neptune Butterfly: If I am writing a story so well it can't be put down, then I'm doing good- though at the plot/length ratio I've got, we could be talking 100k words easily in total. Reading _that_ much in one sitting is truly a feat, so be glad you caught it at this point. (According to friends, I actually require the use of the pronoun 'it'. Evidently they're not certain either.) 


	20. Chapter 19: Convergence

Back to typing, now that I've finished up with various urgent pressing matters, like saving the galaxy from the Ur-Quan and counting the number of leaves on my spider plants.  
  
Disclaimer: Well, they were important tasks to the author.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 19: Convergence

  
  
The view from the bridge was excellent. The sunset was just far enough to their right that it was out of his eyes, though the pilot was either squinting or trying to hide behind the small visor. Of course, he wasn't completely out of the glare- the highly polished gun barrels managed to each have their own set of double bright spots shining in. The light wasn't all bad- the topey colors of orange and red it bathed the landscape in were impressive to behold, and had managed to keep his mind off his increasingly irate guests.  
  
Well, only one was really being irate. Rai-dei was the very model of politeness and calm, though he was very aloof and for some reason the guy always gave him a feeling of dismissal. It was as if the man could hardly stand being around other people. Something had made him that way, though it wasn't his place to pry- a good third or more of his regiment had some tragic tale in their past, and it was the unspoken rule that _nobody_ asked until they felt like starting themselves. If he wanted to talk, he'd do so, and until then they'd just have to tough it out.  
  
That had never stopped rumors from springing up among the newer recruits. The rumors never got too far, thanks to The Hand. It was the one skill the old commander had that could wipe out rumors almost before they formed. The breeding ground was always the mess tent- the combination of time, food, and bootleg drinks led to the perfect place for wild stories to get kicked off. It would usually start with one greenie getting soused, then blurting out what they through about something or someone. Then the booze took over, and would make them say just about anything to keep from being proven wrong. This would be when The Hand came into the picture. The blurter would feel an iron grip on their left shoulder that would remain for just a second before turning them around. Trying to resist it did no good- The Hand would not be denied. Then they'd come face to face with the old Thompson, who would be giving them such a glare that sobriety would come instantly. Then he'd ask in an even tone one simple question- "Sounds interesting, but what proof do you have?"  
  
And that was how the rumors got squashed before they could even start. There was never a repeat offender after having felt The Hand once, at least as far as he knew. _He_ had certainly never opened his mouth again to spout off nonsense after his experience with The Hand. It was hugely beneficial to the regiment, where most everyone had secrets of some sort coming in. And speaking of coming in, if it wasn't the old Thompson himself.  
  
"Hey little buddy."  
  
"That hardly makes sense anymore. I'm eye to eye with you now, and I technically outrank you to boot."  
  
"Yeah, but you know how it works."  
  
His turn to crack a grin. "Yep, that I do. Between you, your little sister, and your 'little little' sister, I know when you can't move a mountain."  
  
They had a good laugh at that. "So, what brings you up here? The view's good, but not that good, and you get to enjoy it all night anyway."  
  
"I was just wondering when you'd be introducing your guests to the crew. They're getting anxious to meet her."  
  
He froze for a moment, then relaxed. "How do you always figure these things out, anyway?"  
  
"Family secret!"  
  
"It was in a letter, wasn't it?"  
  
The Thompson clapped him on the back. "See? I told you that you had a good head on those shoulders!"  
  
_"When you want to know what's going on in the world, ask a Thompson."_ He shrugged and shook his head, then spoke up. "Okay, who here already knows who my guest is?"  
  
Hands shot up around the room, though he only had to watch the communications officer to know that everyone on the ship knew by now. He should have expected it, really- when it came to investigations, nobody beat out their radiohead. He _also_ knew that their radiohead liked to talk in her sleep, and thus kept everyone up to date on the latest classified transmissions. However, that only made two good sources for the guest's identity. After feeling The Hand, everyone made sure they had at least three before talking about it, so what was the third source this time? Meryl hadn't left the room as far as he knew, and unless someone was crawling through the vents... Yeah. Eyewitness report from Private Gunter.  
  
"So, family letter, the radiohead, and Private Gunter?"  
  
"Good try! Almost right too- it was a family letter, Private Gunter, and Private Friez."  
  
"Benson? How'd he find out?"  
  
"Well, she didn't just fly in. She came in through his checkpoint to dodge the sweep, and he confided in me."  
  
He chuckled, again shaking his head. "One of these days, I'd like to be the one to announce important news to the regiment. You all hear that?"  
  
A set of thumbs up emerged from the personnel seated around the room, though that meant the other hands had crossed fingers. At any rate, this would help greatly with his irate guest- being cooped up had Meryl about ready to rip off the bulkheads. Since his relief was here, might as well pop on down and give her the good news.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
Being cooped up had her ready to start ripping off the bulkheads, and if any sections of the ship collapsed, well, too bad for those sections. The only notable difference between her current tiny metal room and her _last_ tiny metal room was that this one had a window and an attached bathroom. Otherwise, they were identical, right down to the number of rivets in the ceiling. Okay, and the smells of cooking food instead of cement. And the occasional company. She threw up her hands and went back to pacing. Without any illness, she was back to being bored. It was almost worse than being sick.  
  
They had been traveling nonstop ever since they departed from December two days ago. It had taken them over a week to finally get out, as all travel had been suspended while the search for her was ongoing. They had to call it quits eventually, since keeping a major city under lockdown for a long time simply wasn't an option. People needed the supplies being made in the city, and the city needed raw materials brought in from the outside. The first day of actual travel had pretty good views of four or five other steamers and their entourages all moving out. They needed to move to make up lost time, and by sticking together with a Cavalry steamer they were able to take shortcuts through some very wild areas. Not that she knew of _anyone_ who was foolish enough to try and take on multiple steamers. Just one was able to plow right through nearly anything, and she had counted two Humpbacks and three Orcas, and that didn't include whatever it was that she was in.  
  
At this time, it was just them and an Orca, and it looked to be pulling in front to make a dash for lost time. Soon, it would be nothing but dunes, rocks, more dunes, more rocks, and for a change of pace some dunes on rocks. The only thing she wanted to see right now on rocks was maybe some whiskey. Anything else would leave her bored. Thankfully, a knock at the door signaled company was here to provide her a respite. At this point, even Rai-dei would be good, anyone else would be a bonus.  
  
The door opened to reveal a bonus. Julius looked happier than a Thomas in a grain silo, and it threatened to suck away her moodiness. Then he opened his mouth. "Good news! Seems that everyone found out you're aboard, so I guess you can come out."  
  
"They found out? How?"  
  
"A letter to the old commander and two privates saw you in the area. _Isn't that right Private Gunter?_"  
  
He had shouted that last bit towards the ceiling and back wall. A reply filtered down from the air vent set in the top corner, though it sounded rather distant. "Right sir!"  
  
"You have people..._in_ the vents...?"  
  
"Well, yeah, but it's just Private Gunter. Nobody quite knows why, but he seems to like the air vents for traveling around the ship."  
  
She looked back and forth between the vent and Julius. She decided on a course of action and shoved a chair over so she could get at the vent. She stuck her head in, but couldn't see the Peeping Tom anywhere. "Well, if I _ever_ catch you looking in again, I'm turning that eye _black_!"  
  
Another response came up from somewhere in the darkness, still sounding rather far off. "Right ma'am! Sorry ma'am!"  
  
She dropped back down to a view of Julius holding back laughter. Men in the vents, a commander with a funny bone bigger than his backbone, and a Thompson- this place would be paradise for Vash. He could be Captain Screwball of the Nutso Company. A thought struck her. "You wouldn't happen to have a Captain Screwball or a Nutso Company, would you?"  
  
"Not anymore. Nutso Company was lost some thirty years ago, and Captain Lance 'Screwball' Marlin was a founding member of the regiment nearly ninety years ago."  
  
He had said that with a perfectly straight face. "Really?"  
  
"Really."  
  
"And I can go out now without anyone shooting me?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Objects still fall _down_ when dropped?"  
  
"I'm fairly sure of it."  
  
Okay, so reality hadn't taken a complete leave of absence. That meant she could finally get out and walk around. "So... Where to?"  
  
"Well, I guess you can go pretty much anywhere onboard, though the dinner crowd should be stampeding in any moment. We'll have to run to get the good food before-"  
  
The rest of whatever he said was lost. The idea was sold to her at the mention of 'dinner' and 'good food,' the latter of which she hadn't had in days. She grabbed Julius and strode down the corridor, letting her nose lead the way. Just as they reached a twisting stairwell that already had a good number of people coming on down, it struck her how Vash-like she was acting. _"Chased by the law, letting our stomachs make decisions for us, trouble comes looking..."_ An image of her in red with spiky hair flashed through her mind. _"Ugh... **Not** going to happen."_  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted as someone coming down surprised her with a hand on the shoulder. Looking up, the first thing she saw was a bunch of stubble that framed a glowing, all too familiar smile. It broke to form words. "Welcome aboard, and thanks for looking after my little little sister for so long."  
  
She grinned right back at him. "I think it was the other way around... I could never remember all the names, which one are you?"  
  
He brought up his other hand. "Roy Thompson. Meryl Stryfe, right? Pleasure to meet you!"  
  
Her own hand got pumped a few times, then the three of them set out down the stairs. She got a number of looks, and a few that lingered, but nobody was whispering. Best of all, there was no anger, pity, or fear being directed towards her. The dominant look was quizzical, with a few looking about ready to step up and ask her what was on their minds. However, food came first, and the smells were getting stronger. The flow into the double doors ahead just confirmed what her nose was informing her.  
  
When they entered, everyone looked up and a few saluted... Julius. Her own attention was minimal, aside from the occasional look. The noise level was almost enough to make her ears pop after spending so much time in the fairly quiet room upstairs. Row after row of long tables filled the room, and soldier after soldier was seated before the tables, digging into their platters with gusto. A wave finally attracted her attention to a specific table, where Moore and Rai-dei were seated. The former was waving her over, and the latter was a chiseled frown that stared down into his food. She took the invitation and worked her way over, with Julius right behind, though Roy had broken off towards the kitchen with a shout that he was getting the grub. Julius hopped up on the table and took a stance, holding up his arms. The commotion died down shortly as all eyes were directed his way.  
  
"All right people, I have an announcement to make-"  
  
A rather high pitched and annoying voice broke in. "We already know she's here!"  
  
Julius grimaced, but continued like there hadn't been any interruption. "Meryl Stryfe, or as you may have heard her called, 'Derringer' Meryl, skipped town with us. Any complaints?"  
  
The room was silent aside from a few sounds of chewing. There was an expectant look among a number of the troops as Julius beckoned her up, then a question floated over. "Ever killed anyone?"  
  
"Wha? No!"  
  
No sooner than she said it than a few soldiers lit up with grins while a few others cursed, looked down at their food, or got out billfolds. Money changed hands around the room, and it suddenly hit her as to what had happened. "You made _bets_ on whether or not I killed anyone?!"  
  
"Yeah, and you cost me twenty double dollars!"  
  
"Made me forty double dollars!"  
  
She turned to Julius, but he just shrugged and hopped back down. Then the first annoying voice from before called out again and made things worse. "Do a striptease!"  
  
Laughter erupted as her cheeks burned, and a few comments on trying to rig the bet came out as the noise level picked up to where it had been. She climbed back down too as Roy reappeared with three well-stocked platters balanced in his arms. Moore leaned over to her ear. "Sorry about that, we've been trying to figure out who that is but he's been around since before we joined. Even the old commander has no idea who it is."  
  
Well, if they had eluded a Thompson, they had to be damned good. No satisfactory punitive action for her, even though the recent events had her mellowed she was still ready to dispense a good throttling. The bite to her dignity itched less, not that she had much remaining after all that happened. However, what little was left was still hers, so while the rest of the regiment was shoveling in the food it was left to her, Rai-dei, and Roy to be the island of civility. As she ate, savoring every bite of real, freshly cooked food, she noticed that even though she was dressed in a loaned uniform she still looked more like a soldier than a good half of the room.  
  
_"With friends like this, I don't need enemies..."_  
  
On the upside, at least she wasn't likely to be bored for quite some time.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
"This is your pilot speaking. We'll be arriving shortly, so everyone place your tray tables in the full upright position and secure all loose items. This includes painting supplies. Yeah, that means you."  
  
The announcement cut off, with the final echoes dying down from the access hatch behind her. She shook her head and smiled. The past few days reminded her of the old times with Vash, back before she knew of things like plants, angel arms, and evil twins. As she tightened her grip on the railing she let the wind ruffle her hair. It was very peaceful to look over the scenery as it passed by, and that made turning to the bow all the harder because what was ahead was far from peaceful, and they were just going to stir things up more.  
  
Eventually she forced her eyes to turn and start sizing up the situation. Ugh. Her smile inverted as she took in the new view. Inepril was bursting with activity, and none of it looked conductive to anyone's well-being. There appeared to be thousands of bounty hunters of every type overflowing the city. If this kept up, Inepril might just become the eighth great city... Assuming no disasters carved it into a crater. At least the Cavalry wouldn't be after Vash. Julius already had a rough report on the Typhoon's escape from their pursuit ten days hence. Of course, Vash excelled at making mincemeat of any plan, even one that would work _for_ him.  
  
Ten days... That long to somehow locate Vash in the huge mess ahead. To make matters worse, she had to keep a low profile lest any of the bounty hunters try for her head instead. At least she had a change in appearance before setting out- though it wasn't her normal style, the cavalry uniform had a good benefit of being the only thing most of her potential troubles would see. One glance and the majority would quietly slip around the corner- it wasn't uncommon for the bounty hunters to be the hunted in certain towns, and the Cavalry was supposed to be on the lookout for everyone wanted anywhere, impossible though it may be.  
  
Of course, she had the advantage of knowing just who she was going after. However, touring the bars was a bit off for a lone soldier and their crazy pajama clad entourage, so she had made some backup plans. Vash may be nearly impossible to locate by sight or by interest, but there was more than one way to find him. After all, her line of work required immaculate attention to detail, so she'd simply... She shook her head as her frown deepened. It wasn't really her line of work anymore. She was as good as fired, so money would be a problem. She was nearly unemployable now, and settling down was practically out of the question... She mentally slapped herself. _"One step at a time... Find Vash first, then ask the expert on outlaw life."_  
  
A few hours later she disembarked with a group of real soldiers, and slipped into the crowds.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
At the moment, the "expert outlaw" was in a tad bit of trouble. Namely, it was a squad of bounty hunters that were well-informed, well-numbered, and well-armed. He had already had a number of close calls and ambushes as he darted through a residential area they had obviously scoped out for this very purpose. He didn't even have backup- Milly had rushed off to the post office to get her letters mailed, Knives had taken up his habitual brooding in a room and _certainly_ wouldn't be the kind of help he needed now, and as for the gunsmith... Well, Frank had been hit in the initial barrage. He was too busy dodging all the projectiles to intervene, and now he was on a mad dash that brought back memories of the last time he had been in the city. He was eventually chased full circle, and it _hurt_ to see the gunsmith like that...  
  
That was when the bounty hunters struck from all sides. Even with his skills, there was simply no dodging this onslaught. Round after round hit him, his body jerking with each impact, and then they were all over him. His peppered body crumpled to the ground, and almost countless hands clamped onto his limbs. One of the attackers jumped up and pumped their gun in the air in celebration.  
  
"We got Vash the Stampede!"  
  
A laugh came over from the nearby porch where the initial ambush had taken place. How could he be so cruel?  
  
"Yeah, it looks like they got Vash the Stampede all right. I can see the headlines now- '$$60,000,000,000 Bounty taken down in Inepril!', 'Vash the Stampede falls!', 'Doughnut Memorial Planned for Downed Outlaw'."  
  
Frank took another bite of the doughnut he held and made an exaggerated "Mmmm..." while picking off suction darts with the other. The downed outlaw winced as one of the kids piled on top of him started to twist his leg, so he began to drag himself over to the small plate of doughnuts before the gunsmith could finish them off. However, the kids had other ideas and he made little progress while Frank continued to slowly reduce the supply of ambrosia with holes. Finally, his attackers decided that they'd had enough bounty hunting for the moment, giving him the chance to dart foreward and snatch away the final treat. He was about to sink his teeth into the delectable item when a loud clomping interrupted his imminent chomping.  
  
Milly came running down the narrow street full tilt, hair streaming behind her. He knew she liked to just zip off at times, but it would only be for short bursts- this time she had been at it for a good while as he could see the redness and sweat. She skidded to a halt in front of him, wheezing heavily. Something was wrong here, very wrong... "What is it big girl?"  
  
"Mr... Mr..."  
  
"Yeah, I'm Mr. Vash. Skip to the next part."  
  
She was too winded to try words again, so she simply handed him a sheet of paper she had crumpled while running. Frank brought down a chair that she practically fell into, making it creak dangerously under the weight. He focused on the sheet to see what was so urgent that Milly had to run halfway across the city. In the next second his doughnut, that he had worked so very hard to get at, fell to the ground- forgotten.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
"I don't see why we should bother."  
  
"Knives..."  
  
"It's only a human, I'm sure you can find others. I can see several right outside- do you want another female, or would any do?"  
  
"Knives... _Shut. Up._"  
  
That got Knives to stop. He had expected it from him, but the words stung more than he expected them to. This wasn't some pet sand lizard or something, this was _Meryl_. A wonderful, unique individual who had shared in his life far more than anyone else had. You can't just _replace_ something like that! Why had he even bothered to invite his brother in for this, anyway?  
  
It was simple, really. Knives was good with plans, and if he ever needed a good plan _this_ was the time. The object of all this contention laid upon the table's corner. It was a simple item, and he had seen so many over his travels that he couldn't even hazard a guess as to the number. However, this was only the second time seeing one had caused such shock. The paper was flimsy and poor quality, with a blank streak in a neat line running down it where the printer had an ink stoppage. The contents were still quite clear regardless.  
  


**WANTED**  
"Derringer" Meryl Stryfe  
Last seen breaking out of the December Courthouse  
Associates:  
Vash the Stampede  
Wanted for:  
Genocide, Murder, Class 'E' Property Damage, numerous small crimes  
EXTREMELY DANGEROUS  
Reward: $$1,000,000,000

  
  
That much had left him horrified, but it was the pictures below that made his heart ache. Her face looked so slack and lifeless for one moment he had thought her dead. However, bounties weren't put out on the dead, so that meant she was still with the living. Unfortunately, a bounty this big would have the hunters scrambling, and unlike his wanted poster this one had a face for them to look for. He had to find her, but where could he start? She could be practically anywhere on the entire planet... no. Only the 10% or so of it where the ships had crashed, outside that area there were no plants and thus no method for survival. That still left her alone somewhere. Was she hurt? Cold? Hungry? Scared?  
  
"Woah there!"  
  
He jumped at the voice, then noticed that his gun arm was acting up and had deployed the concealed weapon. He forced himself to calm down, if he really lost it things wouldn't end well for anyone.  
  
"Well, if you're that intent on finding her, we need more information on where she might be. I doubt she would still be in the city of December, so a list of departed sand steamers would provide possible locations. Also, that 'Insurance Society' she was part of may have some information."  
  
Did that just come out of Knives' mouth? Evidently so, as Milly jumped up and almost hugged his brother. "That's a great idea Mr. Knives! I think they've reopened the branch office, so I'll run down and check right away!"  
  
No sooner had she said that than she was gone. Frank volunteered to go check out the steamer schedules, and that left him alone with Knives. Even though his thoughts were in turmoil, a few stayed near the surface that he could actually get answers for now. "...Why, Knives? It's not like you to care..."  
  
"I still don't care about any of the spiders. I do care about _you_, brother, and seeing you suffer so is something I can't stand."  
  
Knives _cared_ about him and didn't want him to suffer? "What the _hell_ is that?! I thought you _wanted_ me to suffer! And I have suffered! Do you have any idea how much pain and misery Legato and the Gung-ho Guns put me through?!"  
  
"It wasn't supposed to happen that way! You wouldn't have suffered at all, if you had only _learned_ what they had to teach! If only you would stop caring about those malignant creatures, all the pain would go away..."  
  
Knives' voice broke, and tears- real tears!- streaked his face. His brother managed to croak out a few more words. "I just want us to be brothers again..."  
  
Now his own anger crumbled as his eyes spilled over. He got up and went around to Knives' side of the table, his legs unsteady. He barely managed to tug a chair along so he could sit next to Knives, who was now sniffling. He reached around and embraced him. In a mere whisper, he said "I'd like that."  
  
He felt his brother's arms clutch at him. Not a sound made it into the room save a few sniffles. Not an item moved, saved for their shoulders that would occasionally shake from soundless sobbing. They could forget humanity for now, and be brothers, _real_ brothers. Even if just for a few precious minutes.

* * *

¤stumbles off an amusement park ride, leans over nearest trashcan and tosses his cookies¤ Whew, remind me not to ride the Emotional Rollercoaster anymore, I can hardly stand that sort of up and down.  
  
Legato: My master has what he desires... I am filled with nothing but joy.  
  
Wolfwood: Joy?! He had your face blown in just to try and make a point!  
  
Legato: It was worth it for my master.  
  
Quiet, both of you, or I'll toss some Lemon Pecan Sandies at you. And I _know_ that getting you two around lemons _never_ results in anything good.  
  


**Reviewer Responses**

  
  
betsytheripper: Wolfwood got some attention at long last, and the only miniature I have is of a mounted warrior, though he's missing the horse- the pose makes me think he needs to eat more bran muffins.  
  
cjflutterbye: And now, a whole bunch of stuff happens. No reunions, but they've been primed, and Knives shows a sensitive side. Hate to honk my own horn, but it feels like I rolled a critical ;)  
  
coffeetin: The hair gel was for me- there is no known force that can convince an anime character to admit to using hair gel, up to and including the destruction of a universe filled with nothing but cute kittens.  
  
Sorian: Yeah, though the store was mysteriously burned down... Oh well, he got enough money for the gel.  
  
SapphireWhiteTigress: Evil is to write poorly but churn it out- REAL Evil is to write well then take your sweet time updating.  
  
MidgetMinion: Thank you, thank you. Expect to have a few more chapters of that nature in the future, though from what I have planned they're really too short- more like interludes, and will be called as such. It's why I bothered to echo the chapter numbers in the individual titles.  
  
kitsune: ¤squeaks¤ My ribs... And of course I missed you! (Mustn't feel the punch, mustn't feel the punch...) To ward off the fishmongers, I have created a little blue box that will appear above you whenever you resemble an eel that will spell out "Leviathan". Hopefully they'll run off to avoid taking massive damage. And with a talent like that, I think you could be a good recordkeeper- heaven knows Julius could use a hand keeping that desk under control. As for Sara, she's stayed behind- Meryl's still in good hands with Roy. The Hand is to be feared and respected. 


	21. Chapter 20: Intersection

I recently went on a little bike ride into some old backwoods mixed among the local streams and creeks. There was one bridge that I came to right as the sun was smack in the middle of the stream, shining through the fog and a tree that overhung the water. It was amazing how all those little things fit together so well- it was a fragment of paradise. Know what the best thing is? The fragments are everywhere, just waiting for someone to see them. Go out there and look with your heart, and you can find them too.  
  
Disclaimer: Seeing fragments of paradise may induce excessively happy feelings that will annoy those who lack imagination. Just say 'pbbbt' to them.  
  
Technical Notes- Gunsmoke Telepathy: In this story, telepathy is best described by using a radio analogy. Unless you're disciplined in controlling your thoughts or have a rather unique method of thinking, everyone is like a radio station, broadcasting out what they're thinking at any given time. Since there's absolutely no regulation, these broadcasts end up as a cluttered jumble, but since almost nobody has good receivers it doesn't matter. Like radio, transmission ranges are limited and will vary from person to person and even from thought to thought. Emotionally charged thoughts have more raw power than calm, logical thoughts. Clarity and signal strength drop off with distance, though certain combinations of circumstance can create abnormally long range contact (like getting a European radio station on a cheap crystal radio in the US though pure luck). Direct physical contact results in exceptionally strong signals.  
  
On the reception end, as stated almost nobody has a receiver. Plants are a notable exception, as is anyone that gets shown how to 'make' a receiver, and more importantly how to 'tune' it to a specific person. Once this is done, they may be able to take it further. In extreme cases, they get good enough at controlling both reception and transmission to not only /look/ into minds, but to also exploit weaknesses (such as doubts, fears, and other negative psychological attributes) and gain control over a person's body, forcing the person into a sleep state while the body goes off on a joyride. Even at such a stage of ability, whoever is doing the controlling is still limited by the number of ways they can split their attention, their own transmission range, how well they can probe multiple minds, and how resistant some minds may be to control. Resistance can be increased through a variety of methods, ranging from outright physically different brains to exceptional mental self control to sheer mass of thought as thousands of people all thinking results in massive telepathic static- probably why Legato never just went out and smacked down the major cities one after another.  
  
And now you know, so stop the drooling and spinning eyes already.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 20: Intersection

  
  
The hustle and bustle of a large city was ever-present. While it would be the case for any of the great cities, the exact feel given off by the city would always be unique. December had an undertone of dealmaking, the art of fair compromise. May defied its own grandeur by somehow retaining a small town attitude. July had been filled with an evanescent feeling of hope, the loss of which was almost as devastating to the planet as the loss of the production and population center. Now, Inepril had gained a feeling of expectation. You couldn't spend more than a few minutes in it before an overwhelming sense that something was about to happen pervaded you.  
  
Somehow, knowing that he was responsible for that didn't make him feel any better. The crushing knowledge that he had caused another change, though far smaller in scope, was creating a hurt deep within him. It just wouldn't go away, it sat there and festered. Even the small opening up and revelation from his brother made little difference- it only assuaged a different, far older hurt. This new hurt was one he couldn't deal with all alone- it would slip around and spin off horrible worlds of "if" to make itself bigger.  
  
He couldn't wait for his friends to return, as not only would they be a while in coming, but they were the wrong sort of help for him. He needed something he couldn't get from them, so he sought it elsewhere. It may have been a fool's errand, but wasn't that the role he played? He sought comfort from the only source he knew might be able to provide it. He stumbled across the city towards the destination, not knowing what to expect.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
Ducking around corners was _fun_. Really. Keep the hat brim down, only peek out when needed. Ignore that group up ahead. Just like Hide and Seek. Don't mind the shout, just walk on as if you couldn't care less. Slide around the corner, and... safe! ...For the moment. _"Good lord, how does Vash manage to do this every day?"_  
  
A voice spoke up behind her, nearly making her leap out of her boots. "Perhaps it would be prudent to wait for nightfall?"  
  
She shot a death glare at Rai-dei, then turned up her nose and started to walk off. _Then_ she remembered that turning up her nose meant her face was visible, and angled back down so quickly the hat popped off. Luckily, a hand flew by in a blur to replace her identity protecting item. Damn that man. It felt like she relying on him for practically everything, which was grating on her. She was quite capable of taking care of herself! _"At least before all this..."_  
  
After playing a good hour's worth of "Win Another Minute of Life!" with the crowds, her target was in reach, yet still so very far away. It was in reach because she was standing right next to the building, and so very far away because of the armed guards and receptionist in the main entrance. Well, if the main entrance wouldn't do, time to find another. A quick walk around the outer wall alleys revealed an exit, as evidenced by the lack of even a handle on this door. Good thing she had her lockpick. "Open it up."  
  
Rai-dei complied, and with a pair of soft chinks the door was suddenly minus supporting connections. It fell down with a nice thump, and she chalked up 'Breaking and Entering' to her record. She suddenly felt giddy with a realization- she could do anything, _anything at all_, and not worry about the law. She was so far in the hole already with her accused crimes that any more wouldn't make a difference. After all, you couldn't get worse than death- everything afterwards was irrelevant. It was a liberating feeling, yet at the same time horribly depressing. However, considering who she was hoping to find in here, she had to keep her thoughts ordered and focused. Knives wasn't one to be consoling troubles- she'd be lucky if he didn't just haul her up by the collar and drop her off for the reward.  
  
She wrapped up the mental mess and filed it away to be dealt with later- right now she had a lot of ground to search. The building was mazelike, with parts of it old, other parts newer, and still plenty of damage in areas deemed unimportant. Arriving at another intersection, she peered down each direction to decide the best path. That was when she felt... _something_ that pulled her to the left. It seemed as good a way to go as any, so she followed it. It kept pulling at her, almost guiding her steps. Finally, she spotted something atypical in the building- a door left ajar. A touch gently swung it open.  
  
_"...amazing..."_  
  
The plant didn't look like any she had ever seen. They would always be large glass-like containers with a glowing center. Some would be small, barely larger than herself, while others could be mountains in their own right. However, this one was almost completely different. A larger one, its base formed the room's roof. That much was the same.  
  
The thing within was not. Vash had told her that the plants were alive, and there were stories from old engineers of seeing angels inside the orbs, but her mind couldn't quite wrap itself around what she had been told- until now. The plant angel was out, and it appeared to deserve every last wild tale and then some. It was glowing softly, a white light that illuminated the room, yet wasn't so bright as to obscure detail. Oh, and what detail was there to see! Feathers of all sizes sprouted off the almost human form, curling around and waving slowly in a dazzling dance. White and black locks of hair floated about its head, occasionally passing before the creature's eyes. The featureless orbs looked useless for sight, yet the angel still seemed to be staring down at something across the room. Following its gaze, difficult as it was to tear her own eyes away from it, she spotted a crumpled figure across a raised section of the floor.  
  
_"It can't be..."_ Her legs moved before her mouth found words, in an attempt to make sure that it was who she wouldn't dare hope it to be. His face was obscured by his hands, but there was no mistaking that arm- or the hair. "Vash?"  
  
He stopped breathing after a momentary intake, and then, ever so slowly, raised his head up and turned towards her. That gaze of his felt like watching the suns rise, to slowly shove aside the biting cold of night with the gentle warmth of morning. It pervaded her, even as she saw a miracle happen on his tear streaked face. He had looked so empty in that first instant, but every moment seemed to fill him, as if he had lost his soul only to have it now return. He stood, and arms- both hers and his -reached out to touch the others face. _"Real... It's real..."_ The arms moved again, and suddenly the air between them was shoved aside. The tears that had collected on his chin now ran down her forehead, to mingle with her own in making his shirt wet. Everything would be fine now...  
  
However, reality couldn't even give them a moment's peace before throwing another crisis at them, as she heard his gun click. He whispered softly to her, yet his voice carried a deadly undertone. "Get behind me..."  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
He had come to the main plant facility to try and seek some form of solstice. His sisters seemed nearly unable to talk _or_ /talk/, but they communicated nonetheless. It was pure feeling that they transmitted and received- It lacked the precision of language, but made up for it with unbarred honesty and accuracy. There was no way to choose the wrong words when there were no words to choose from.  
  
He had slapped up his happy mask to make it in the front door, but the act was straining. Even just _pretending_ to be happy felt wrong. He still managed to wiggle his way in past the personnel without raising a ruckus. He recognized them from the last time he had been in the city, and a simple greeting and a word about him coming to check a plant had him in the bowels of the complex. He went right to the plant that had threatened to explode last time. They knew each other a little better than most.  
  
She opened up for him, in the most important senses of the word. Even after all the times he had seen them like this, it never failed to invoke some sense of wonder. There was nothing he had seen that could quite compare to the way they drifted about. Every bit of their forms seemed to burst with life in a way that almost no person could match. He sent out his feelings to her, and she responded with a soft blanket of comfort. It settled over the room, and he sat to bask in it.  
  
Unfortunately, it didn't last. An upwelling of guilt stifled the pleasant waves. What right did he have to feel so happy when the one closest to his heart was out _there_, in who knows what kind of trouble? In a fit of anger, he thrust aside the warm blanket of comfort. He didn't deserve it. The plant withdrew in shock, and he suddenly found himself sending remorse for his outburst to her. The comfort came back, but this time it skittered along the edges of his mind. Why had he done this? Surely his friends needed him now, and he had just run off to try and get something he shouldn't have from his sister. To top it off, he couldn't get it after all and had _scared_ her in the process. What kind of a beast was he?  
  
His head fell limply into his waiting hands. Even his sister seemed to have given up, her attention going elsewhere while he remained crumpled up by the central platform, like a candy wrapper tossed aside. He became almost as inert as one too. He had no idea how long he stayed that way, until a small noise slashed through the veil he had drawn around himself.  
  
"Vash?"  
  
His breath froze as his eyes snapped open. He turned up to the source of that sound. There she was, looking down at him. Had his grief driven him crazy? He got up and hesitantly stuck out his hand, afraid of causing her to evaporate into the place mirages come from with his touch, yet hoping against hope that it really was her. His fingers trembled as they came to her upturned face, with lavender eyes locked into his own. His hand touched her cheek- It was soft. Her hand traced his jaw- It was warm. It was her... It was really her! Tears of a different sort now traced their way down as he embraced her. He held on tightly while the beating of his heart threatened to overwhelm his senses. They were together again, and this time he wouldn't let go. A feeling of happiness drifted down from above, and looking up he saw the plant return to its normal form. He let his gaze fall back down, noticing for the first time that she had a rather ugly hat on that didn't suit her at all. It was gone with a casual flick.  
  
A hand caught it as it was about to sail out the door, and the perfect little world with just the two of them crumbled. His mind flitted over a library's worth of curses, but none seemed able to express just how much he despised whatever gods there may be right then and there. Thus, he kept silent as he smoothly unholstered his gun, then whispered a warning. "Get behind me..."  
  
The Gung-ho Gun just stood there, head bowed as he gently prodded Meryl behind him. What was the man waiting for?  
  
"Oh, it's just Rai-dei."  
  
"'Just' Rai-dei? What's going on here?" He kept his aim squarely on the figure before him.  
  
"It's... a long story."  
  
"Figures. Luckily, I can keep this up all day, so let's hear it."  
  
Rai-dei got down to his knees and carefully laid the blade that was his namesake beside him, then outright prostrated himself just inside the room. If there was dust anywhere, he'd spot it for sure like that. His aim held steady- he possessed superior speed, but with Meryl there he had very little room to move as he would have liked. The form spoke but a moment later.  
  
"Vash-San, I have wronged you terribly, and must beg your forgiveness."  
  
_That_ was unexpected. "Uh... Okay?"  
  
Rai-dei rose to his knees, and for the better part of the next hour the ex-Gung-ho Gun spilled out his story. His brush with death, though to him it really _was_ death. The departure from the Gung-ho Guns, too ashamed to even tell them after breaking down so dishonorably in Augusta. His anguished wanderings, trying to find the Stampede but failing to do so. His discovery of the book and the new vow he had taken on. His chance meeting with Meryl while putting a stop to the Nebraskas. The escape from the city, the steamer trip, Meryl's illness, and finally arriving in Inepril that morning.  
  
Meryl ended up dozing against his legs, her gentle contact and lack of aggression vouching for what Rai-dei said more than the actual words. Normally he would have kept her awake, but she needed it if even half of what Rai-dei mentioned was true. However, she snapped out of her slumber once the story finished. Even overstressed as she was, she was still able to keep a bit of caution in her.  
  
"So... You want to be like me?"  
  
"Hai."  
  
"Well, you've come quite a way, but you're not there yet. There's a core element, _vitally_ important to how I view the world that you still lack."  
  
"What would that be, Vash-San?"  
  
"You must always remember...!"  
  
"Hai."  
  
"Deep within your being..."  
  
"Hai!"  
  
The look Rai-dei had was nothing short of one expecting a divine proclamation. The man was ready to listen, so it was time to speak the simple truth with conviction and good old fashioned volume.  
  
"That this world is made of _love and peace_!"  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
"What was that?"  
  
The other junior technician looked up at the ceiling from which the loud thudding noise had come. "Some old rubble, maybe? Better tell the boss man just in case, whatever it was must have hit hard."  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
The street was mostly empty under the influence of the midday suns, but there were always eyes out. Looking through the glare of dusty windows, or just able to peek out from under old beat up hats, they were omnipresent. At least they weren't even so much as glancing her way, thanks to Vash. Even without his brilliant red coat, he was still able to garner ample attention with his antics, and when combined with the fact that none of those eyes wanted to stare at a Cavalry uniform, it resulted in a completely effective diversion. Wherever they were going, they'd get there.  
  
As it was, 'there' proved to be a small apartment building not far from the town center, but enough out of the way that the long time residents were the only ones around. Entering the lobby, there was a sudden hail of darts that thoroughly pegged Vash just before a group of children swarmed him. She sighed and went for the stairs to wait out playtime, but just as she turned to get a seat on the lowest step Vash nearly bumped into her. "They finished already?"  
  
"No, but sometimes you're just in a hurry to get things done. Can't fool around all day!" He laughed through his giant grin. _"Oh, Vash..."_ He was using his Happy persona, but it was so strained that almost anyone could pick up on it. He never liked serious talks, and here he was rushing them up to what would probably be nothing _but_ serious talks. It both warmed and hurt her. That he was willing to place her first was great, but not if it took away the other things that made him happy. Besides that, the kids looked depressed at being rebuffed, and she couldn't have that. Her mind made up, she firmly turned him around and gave him a slap on the rear. "Get out there you big doofus."  
  
Moment later, he was being twisted like a pretzel in the middle of the lobby. She watched them go at it with a smile. The problems could wait a few minutes for this. Rai-dei sat beside her, his neat upright position a contrast to her own chin-on-one-knee relaxed posture.  
  
"He is... not what I expected."  
  
She kept watching the wrestling in the middle. "Yeah, but that's what makes him so wonderful. He's so alive despite everything, or maybe because of everything. What's really amazing is that he can spread it out to everyone around him."  
  
"I find it hard to believe that he is the same being I faced in Augusta."  
  
"It just takes time to understand him. Spend a few months following him around and you'll hardly recognize yourself, _if_ he doesn't drive you crazy in the process."  
  
"I will see."  
  
They kept their little audience going as Vash got contorted into improbable shapes by the noisy gaggle of kids. After a few minutes, Rai-dei rose and turned, but didn't go up the stairs as she expected. Instead, he stood there and spoke.  
  
"I apologize for failing you."  
  
He hadn't failed her, had he? Then a sudden chill on her neck alerted her to the presence of someone else. She knew who it was before her head turned to glance up at him. Knives stood a few steps above, mouth firmly fixed in a disapproving frown while his eyes glowed soft blue.

* * *

¤decks out everyone in party regalia, complete with pointy hats and party favors¤ It's time to celebrate! Over one hundred reviews and counting! Party hearty my amigos!  
  
Wolfwood: All right! Dibs on the cake! **¤CRUNCH¤** Ey, who fut a ailfile en the cake?  
  
Oh, I had been saving that cake for a special occasion, and now seemed special enough. Come on Legato, you can't be all frowns at a party!  
  
Legato: .........¤phweet¤.  
  
Oh well, I suppose it's the best we can expect from him. And who spiked the punch? ¤pulls a bunch of giant spikes out of the punch¤  
  
E.G. Mine: Why are you all looking at me?  
  


**Reviewer Responses**

  
  
Neptune Butterfly: Ah, the little people are loved! However, they will have to wait, especially for blowing up stuff- Those big guns aren't likely to go off until _the_ day. However, with most of the regiment on de facto shore leave, expect to see them wandering around the city. As for Private Gunter, well, boys will be boys. Not to say he hasn't been maced a few times --;  
  
cjflutterbye: Alas, action is holding off for a while. We're slipping back into a character-interaction phase. Meetings, greetings, and a few chewing-outs.  
  
betsytheripper: Well, the Gunsmoke government's not made of money. Besides, from all the rumors and crooks pretending to be in league with Vash, he's probably got a gang a few hundred in size by now. Too bad they're all fakes except for one. And help yourself to the cake, it's, uh, C4 cake? Tastes a bit blah, but the frosting is excellent.  
  
s: I have been reviewed by the letter s. It's been a lifelong dream ever since I first saw PBS.  
  
Meryl Stryfe: ¤looks back and forth between reviews and story¤ You...there, but you're there, and... ARGH! Headache!  
  
Sorian: It was for the greater good (of the plot, possibly not of anyone involved by the plot).  
  
Yma: I was faced with a choice between either letting it languish for a time, or plowing ahead, but Knives had to have his little crack appear. It's fairly consistent with how I have Knives pictured in this story- he's a mix of the anime and magna versions, and his internal workings are due to be explained a few chapters down the line. The title will be 'To Pluck an Angel's Wings', and it's one of the scenes that I already have planned out.  
  
kitsune: According to my co-workers, I'm already spending time in hell. It's not Wicked Author Hell, since it basically gives me eight hours to think of what to write. I have had to deal with The Voice, which in some ways exceeds both The Hand and The Eye in that you can't outrun it or hide in a closet. 


	22. Chapter 21: Big Brothers and Little Sist...

A few actual notes here rather than my normal rambles. First, you may have noticed that the adverts recently took a holiday from my story- this is because I subscribed to the ol' archive. Since I glean huge quantities of entertainment from this site, it seemed worthwhile to toss a little back to them for being so nice. This also means I now have an E-mail address that will remain up for a good long while- it's in my profile if you want to drop me a line directly. No promises on how often I'll check it, but at least it won't randomly gobble up stuff if I'm away for more than a week. Now, onwards to the zany!  
  
I took one of those "Which character are you" tests against my better judgment. Apparently, out of all the Trigun characters, I'm... Kuroneko-sama. It makes sense. Especially the "People probably think you are rather strange" bit.  
  
Disclaimer: Now that I have a stable E-mail, watch some bored god shoot the mail server with a lightning bolt just for giggles.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 21: Big Brothers and Little Sisters

  
  
This was unexpected. He did _not_ like unexpected. When he had first /heard/ the presence, it had come as quite a shock. Legato had reported him to be dead, and Legato was quite truthful- he had seen to that. However, Legato had quite clearly been mistaken in that assessment. So it was with the spiders- even the very best he found were still prone to flaws and lapses. Because of those, now he had to deal with it personally.  
  
He got up and left the apartment without a word. The gunsmith was busy pouring over the steamer schedules, but wasn't so busy as to not notice. He pondered telling it that it could stop now, but deemed the effort unneeded. It would find out soon enough on its own, and the measured, directed thoughts it was giving off were more pleasant than the normal emotion-powered racket. Not that it was much of an improvement over the cacophony of noise he /heard/ anyway. He even had to stop /listening/ to keep down the swelling wail of so many disordered minds in such a small area. When he did, the sudden silence was unnerving. How his brother could stand things like this was beyond him. To have the best chance of survival, one needed the maximum possible information at all times- leaving a sense off was foolhardy.  
  
Unfortunately, he had been forced to do just that to remain in the city, as the noise was unbearable otherwise. He had settled for short bursts of /listening/ to keep up a modicum of awareness of his surroundings. One did not allow oneself to be complacent, especially when one was in the middle of a spider's nest. It would alert him to sudden significant shifts in the overall pattern of the activity, but it made long-distance tracking and searching nearly impossible. Hence his discovery of the unexpected just a few floors below, far later than he would have preferred.  
  
As he descended the stairs, he pondered what course of action to take. He could simply correct the aberration between the long-ago statement and the current reality, but his promise prevented that quick and effective action. The next option was to bide his time and discover why his servant had returned now, and how. Depending on what he discovered, he could then dismiss or restore his servant. The ranks of the Gung-ho Guns _were_ rather depleted due to recent events. Retaking a presumed dead member would be easier than finding new ones.  
  
He was getting close now, so he carefully masked his presence. He would act first. It was therefor with considerable disgust to have the other act first instead. His servant rose from the bottom steps and turned to him, then uttered an apology. Proper, but the loss of first action to an inferior sent a spark of anger through him before he could quell it. That got the attention of his brother's precious pet, which backed out into the lobby. Had the pet noticed his emotional disturbance? Troublesome to more troublesome... but that was for later.  
  
_"/Rai-dei the Blade./"_  
  
"Master Knives."  
  
_"/Open./"_  
  
The Blade complied. It only took a minute to scan through the memories contained within. What he discovered, he did not like.  
  
_"/You consider yourself dead and removed from my service?/"_  
  
"Hai. I failed in the task given me. I am unworthy."  
  
_"/I consider it so. You are... tainted. Begone./"_  
  
"...that is all?"  
  
_"/I will waste no more time on you. Go to my brother, you are his now./"_  
  
It took considerable effort to not tear the waste of flesh apart right then and there. Dangerous impulses raced along his arm, but he quelled them. His promise was becoming increasingly burdensome to keep up, but _he_ was not weak. His _former_ servant could go follow his brother until his flesh decayed for all he cared. However, this made the _third_ one of his most able servants to turn against him, and in all three cases it could be traced back to his fool of a brother. He would need to take precautions against further happenings.  
  
_"/Heh, maybe there's something to humanity if even the most self destructive can be turned away, eh?/"_  
  
He ignored the comment. _"/Enjoy your new pet. Be wary, the Blade is dangerous and untrustworthy./"_  
  
_"/They're not pets, they're people. And for your information, I don't keep them, they choose to be with me, and if they decide not to stay, well, that's that. I thought you were against slavery?/"_  
  
_"/I am. It is wrong to control your equals, and worse for an inferior to control a superior./"_  
  
_"/But we are equal- They're not any more or less than we are./"_  
  
_"/We plants are superior by every measure. It is as natural for them to serve us, as it is for a Thomas to serve them./"_  
  
_"/...You're going to eat those words someday./"_  
  
_"/Impossible. And if I were you, I wouldn't let those things clamber all over me./"_  
  
_"/Aww, but it's fun!/"_  
  
He simply stared at his brother as the children scrambled over him. How coming in contact like that could be fun seemed to border impossibility. It looked much more like pain than fun. Perhaps there were crossed connections in brother's pleasure and pain brain centers? It would explain a great deal if true. His own were certainly wired properly, as the mass noise again began to overstress his senses. Giving the scene one more glance, he repressed a shudder and made his way back upstairs.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
Good old shore leave. There was nothing quite like it, even if the actual difference between life in the regiment and life outside was almost nonexistent. Still, it was good to just get out and stretch. Sand steamers weren't designed with plenty of wide open space, and at times he'd encounter a door that was just a tad too low and get clipped on the head. Sometimes he had to wonder just what the designer was thinking to make so many areas so small- you'd have to be a kid to fit in a few. In any case, he wasn't in the steamer now, and it felt great to stride down the street.  
  
Now, if he could only somehow find little little sis in the crowds... He couldn't help but be a bit worried. The city was filled with high strung bounty hunters and other folks, and who knew how many of the weapons they had that were poorly maintained and liable to go off by accident? He had already told off one fellow who had been cleaning a gun with the safety off, and while drunk no less. Someone could lose a finger that way!  
  
His reverie was ended when a short cloaked figure bumped into him, mumbled an apology, and walked off back the way he came. He sighed, and reached around to grab the figure's shoulder. The person bolted, but found themselves lacking traction as he hoisted them up off the ground. A screech came out and the person tried to give him a kick to the head, but he just caught the boot with his other hand. The person struggled a bit while letting obscenities fly, but he just waited for them to calm down. The hood fell back, and a practiced eye could tell right away why this kid had tried to pickpocket his billfold.  
  
"If you need some food that much, why didn't you just ask?"  
  
The kid paused in mid-tirade, mouth agape. He took the chance to sling the little guy across his shoulders.  
  
"Hey, I bet they serve spaghetti and flapjacks in that place! How about it little fella?"  
  
The kid sputtered for a bit as he strode over, then finally blurted out "I'm a girl, you blockhead!"  
  
He looked the kid over again. Yeah, it was a her all right. There was so much dirt and caked on dust it was hard to tell. Entering the eatery, he found a table and plopped her down in a chair then took the one right across for himself. "Waiter! Biggest plates of spaghetti and flapjacks you have!"  
  
While the food was being prepared, he gave the girl a good look over. A bit pale and quite gaunt, the poor kid looked to be going on more willpower than water. He tapped the shoulder of a fellow behind him. "Say, could we borrow your pitcher of water?"  
  
"Why don't you just..." The fellow finished turning, and ended up changing expression from angry to a bit of a broken smile. Odd that he was sweating so much, it wasn't that hot in here. "...eh...heh...just take all you want, mister Cavalry sir. I, uh, gotta go!" The fellow jumped up and walked out quickly. He grabbed the pitcher and placed it under the little lady's nose.  
  
"Drink up!"  
  
She gulped it down, not bothering with a glass. "You've been out there a while. Pace yourself, you don't want to be sending anything back up!" She glared at him, and he answered with a smile. She did slow down, and nursed the water pitcher instead of nearly inhaling it. At times she tried to glare or frown at him, but it never lasted for more than a moment. When the plates of food came, he shoved the spaghetti her way and watched as he dug into the flapjacks. Still had her wits about her as she managed the food, not gorging herself sick. He nodded in approval. However, that didn't stop her from smearing the sauce across her face as she tried to take oversized bites. "Heh, you really look like a guy now, the sauce looks like a goatee."  
  
She glared at him once more, then sighed and snatched the napkin he offered. They ate in silence, until she sat back and looked out the window, the barest hint of an 'I'm full' smile across her less pale face.  
  
"So, shouldn't you be with your family?"  
  
Her gaze darted back to him, then it lowered to the plate in front of her. "Yeah..." He could just see the glimmer of tears in her eyes, though he doubted she would let them out.  
  
"Oh, I see..."  
  
"I'm trying to find my big brother."  
  
Whew. For a moment he was worried she didn't have any family. "Well, how about we go looking? I'm trying to find my little sister, and you're looking for your big brother, so how could we possibly not find them if we look together?"  
  
She gave him an odd look. "That's the dumbest thing I've heard in a long time."  
  
"Then we're partners in the search for siblings!"  
  
"But, I-"  
  
"Waiter! Four cans of pudding to go!" He turned back to her. "After all, we need enough to share with family."  
  
Her mouth opened and closed, then she threw up her hands. "Okay! We'll look together!"  
  
He grinned as he went to the bar to pay for the meal and pick up dessert. The chances weren't really that good, but since when did being pessimistic ever get anyone anywhere? How you felt wouldn't matter to if they were really around the corner or not, that's just how it would be. Staying upbeat just made it that much easier to keep looking around more corners until you found the right one. As he juggled the change, he piled the cans into her arms. She hadn't been expecting the move, and dropped two. She caught one, but the other took off across the floor and rolled right out beneath the swinging door. He hurriedly pocketed the rest of the change and followed her out, blinking in the afternoon glare. From what he could see, the can managed to make it a fair ways into the street.  
  
"You should be more careful! What if someone stepped on your pudding?!"  
  
That voice... He rubbed at his eyes. "Milly?"  
  
"Roy?"  
  
His eyes finally finished adjusting. Sure enough, there stood his littlest sister, pudding in hand. "You look different." Then came laughter at the simultaneous statement. Questions and answers began to fly back and forth. News of the family and such. Then he spotted his young companion starting to walk off.  
  
"Hey, where are you going?"  
  
She spun around, fury written across her features. "Well, you found her, didn't you?"  
  
"Yeah, but we haven't found your brother yet. Can't stop looking until everyone's together!"  
  
Her expression softened. "But I thought-"  
  
Little sister elbowed in. "You can't go around like that! How could anyone recognize you under all that dirt? Come on, let's get you cleaned up. Really now, you might get sick if you stay like that."  
  
The girl began to sputter again, but he knew that once Milly made up her mind it was futile to try and change it. He just picked up the handle for the large pink suitcase she had been towing and set off after the ladies. He couldn't quite suppress all the laughter that bubbled up watching the two fuss.  
  
"This isn't funny!" snapped his little companion.  
  
"What isn't?" queried his little sister.  
  
He finally broke down into whoops of laughter so hard he had to clutch his sides. He finally managed to straighten up and looked his sister in the eye. "You're acting _exactly_ like mom!"  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"I guess that means I'm all grown up."  
  
She turned foreward again and headed off. He paused a moment. He had thought she might get upset like she used to do at such statements. However, she looked rather happy, but her smile was tinged with a bittersweetness. He mirrored it. His little sister wasn't so little anymore, and he didn't know quite what to make of it. Sure, he could guess how it happened thanks to the Milly Monthly, but the reality of the written words never quite soaked in until now. She really had changed.  
  
But she was still his little sister, and that meant some things never changed. He jogged for a bit until he was right behind her, then caught a strand of her hair and gave it a playful tug.  
  
"I'm telling mom!"  
  
He laughed. Yes, some things never change.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
The children had finally tired out again and left to do other things. Probably things to do with dinner, if his stomach's sudden growling was keeping accurate time. Meryl raised an eyebrow at him, then blushed as a similar growling came from her insides.  
  
"Shall I prepare a meal for you, Master Vash?"  
  
"Aww, do you have to use that 'master' stuff? It sounds so wrong."  
  
"It would be impolite to address my master improperly."  
  
"Well, if you're going to be that way, then you'll have to use my _full_ name! I am Valentinez Alkalinella Xifax Sicidabohertz Gumbigobilla Blue Stradivari Talentrent Pierre André Charton-Haymoss Ivanovicci Baldeus George Doitzel Kaiser the Third. Don't mess it up."  
  
"I doubt he could possibly mess it up more than what you do to it yourself."  
  
"_MERIK!_"  
  
Heads turned towards the lobby doors and the exclamation that came from that direction. He turned just in time to see a man by the doors finish getting knocked to the floor as two woman charged in, full tilt, on a collision course. As the small one torpedoed his gut and knocked him over, he got a good look of Meryl getting yanked off the ground and spun in a circle. Rai-dei just blinked at the scene a few times. He had to wave off the samurai when the small figure started to pound his sides in with punches.  
  
"You _jerk_! You never came back! You never even mentioned me in your stupid book! Did you just _forget_ about me?!"  
  
Milly and Meryl were looking down at him as he took the pounding, and he wasn't sure just who looked more shocked. He gave them a thumbs up even as a blow hit a scar and made him grimace. He just wrapped his arms around his assaulter and held her until she stopped applying blows. "Eriks, you jerk..."  
  
Then she began to sob into his shirt. He moved his real arm to ruffle her hair, and she gave him another jab to the gut. Suddenly he found himself yanked into a sitting position, by the ear, by one pissed off Meryl Stryfe. "What the hell did you do this time?!"  
  
"Nothing, I swear!"  
  
Another blow hit the growing sore spot. "Nothing is exactly right, jerk..."  
  
"Okay Vash, what's this about?"  
  
"It's a long story. Suffice to say, she's sort of my little sister."  
  
"Little sister? Then she's another like you?"  
  
"No, I kinda got adopted into the family... This really isn't the place, we should go upstairs."  
  
He gingerly got up, supporting the new weight attached to him as best he could. She was lighter than he remembered, which wasn't a good sign. Meryl helped him get up the stairs with minimal jostling of his burden. She wasn't crying or hitting him now, just clutching onto him with a grip that would have put Milly to shame. Somehow, he would have preferred it if she had kept doing either of the first two. As it was, he would deal with whatever it led to.  
  
"Who is she, Vash?"  
  
"Lina."  
  
They entered the apartment.

* * *

...¤groan¤... Ugh, what time is it...  
  
Wolfwood: Too soon to be awake, the hangover's not gone.  
  
Legato: ...zznk¤phweet¤ ...zznk¤phweet¤  
  
Well, it must have been a good party, because I don't remember a thing. ...where are my pants?  
  
Wolfwood: Nowhere near me, thank the lord. I think you gave them to a leprechaun for luck...  
  
This looks like a job for... Emergency Pants!  
  
Wolfwood: Why do you have emergency... nevermind, I'm better off not knowing.  
  


**Reviewer Responses**

  
  
cjflutterbye: More warm fuzzies may be required now, but who's to say that there wasn't another hand in the original meeting mix? Maybe there was...  
  
betsytheripper: Sadly, if anyone reads the start of chapter notes, I _will_ be harassed to death via e-mail. Such is the price paid. And E.G. is a **looooser**!  
  
Sorian: Can't love the party and update. One precludes the other.  
  
SapphireWhiteTigress: Hopefully this won't be depressing all over again. And if it is, all will be made right next chapter! Well, mostly, anyway...  
  
kitsune: I made a lady cry? I'm _awesome_! ...wait, no, that makes me _horrible_! ...horribly awesome? As to the plants themselves, I have that all figured out too for this storyverse- however, all shall be explained in due course by the story. We're talking big plot points ;)  
  
Neptune Butterfly: The day to blow up things isn't far off, though a few things have to happen first. Okay, a whole mess of things... It'll take a while, but I'm sure I can fit in a few random explosions in the meantime.  
  
Yma: Worry not, loyal review squad! I may be slowed, but I shall not cease until such time as I can stick a big "THE END" at, er, the end. Knives was rather low-key today, eh? Must be finally softening up. Or maybe not! (The bad plant _looked_ at me...) o-o; 


	23. Chapter 22: Planning the Future

Eh, can't think of a note, so on with the story. ¤provides extra-large box of tissues¤  
  
Disclaimer: Do not drop, crush, or mutilate. Contents may explode.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 22: Planning the Future

  
  
His eyes flitted around the room. Meryl Stryfe. Lina. Millions Knives. Milly Thompson. Frank Marlon. Roy Thompson. Rai-dei. Brothers and beloveds, sisters and psychopaths, hitchhikers and head cases- all of which had somehow managed to end up in the same living room with the peeling blue paint and a pair of squeaky floorboards. The friendly banter was dying down slowly as he looked around at this ever so unlikely group that had more or less formed around him during his travels. The serious talks would come soon, and he knew only one thing for sure.  
  
He'd need to grab a few extra chairs from the kitchen.  
  
Once that task was done, he was left utterly and completely clueless. How was he supposed to make everything right? Lina was still attached to him at the waist from earlier, drawing comfort from the contact. She was in horrible shape, most likely from being on the road without money or any real ideas besides finding him. The really sad part was that he had left her out of the book intentionally. Eriks had been another life, and wasn't required to be or even should have been mentioned in a book on Vash the Stampede. He had actually been hoping that, after finishing up here and convincing Knives to not court thoughts of genocide, he could have gone back to that little town and settled down with Lina and her granny. He should have remembered that Lina was the type who liked to act, not wait.  
  
And even with her unexpected arrival, that possibility remained open- if it wasn't for another problem with a different member of his posse. Meryl had a bounty on her head. He knew it was somehow his fault- all it took was reading the "Known Associates" portion of her wanted poster. Worse, unlike his, hers had a picture attached. There would never be any peace for her in any town- even if the townsfolk accepted her, there was the constant stream of merchants, mailmen, transients, and of course bounty hunters between even the most remote of towns, and all it took was one bad apple to spoil everything.  
  
The last of the small talk finished among those who partook of it, and silence settled over the room. It wasn't even lack-of-conversation silence, but _silence_ silence. He was starting to pick up heartbeats as the moment stretched on. Mouths would occasionally open, but would remain silent and then close again as ideas on how to start were formed, initiated, and then thought better of. Frank, Rai-dei, and Roy had all wandered off and not returned, which was probably for the best. It didn't really involve them, after all. Lucky non-involved men. Well, eventually the remaining crowd would start falling asleep, so if he was fortunate this could all get put off until tomorrow.  
  
"You. Speak."  
  
Or maybe not. Knives had his arm outstretched and finger extended, forming a neat line that led directly to Lina. It was sort of the logical choice for his brother- as one of the newest additions _and_ the only one currently committing the ever-so-disrespectful act of _touching_ a plant, Knives no doubt wanted a full threat assessment. Still, couldn't he be just a little less blunt about it? In any event, he had gotten things moving as Lina finally loosened her arms from around his waist and sat up. She stared down at the compressed cushions of the green sofa they were on, and finally spoke when Meryl gently laid a hand on her shoulder from the other end of the sofa.  
  
"I didn't know what else to do, so I tried to find you..."  
  
His own hand found her other shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze before he let it simply sit there. "Why couldn't you have just stayed with Granny Sheryl?"  
  
Her voice cracked the first time she said something, with the result that nothing came out save a bit of a whine. She tried again, and nearly shouted out "_I can't!_"  
  
He squeezed her shoulder again, and left a firmer grip on it. "Why? What happened?"  
  
Her voice was low, and at times he had to strain to hear her. "It wasn't that long ago, couldn't be more than a month, maybe two or three... I had just fixed breakfast, well, leftovers from last night, and I waited for her to come join me, but she never did... I went in and tried to wake her up, but she didn't wake up... She was so cold, the house was all so cold... I ran to doc's place, but he couldn't do anything. He said she moved on sometime during the night..."  
  
He sagged at the news. Granny had always been such a spitfire that he couldn't see her just.. stopping. Now he knew why she had been so upset at seeing him down below. "And I wasn't there."  
  
He countenance shifted like the winds of a sandstorm. "Damn right you weren't! I was left all alone in that house! Everywhere I looked, I could see you or her as things used to be. It got so bad I couldn't stay there anymore, the loneliness drove me right out of town! Why weren't you there?"  
  
"...I didn't know."  
  
"That's not an answer you jerk!" She accentuated the statement with another punch to the ribs.  
  
"Really, I didn't know! If I had, I'd have been there. But I didn't, so I wasn't." Before she could retort with another pummeling, he drew her against him and continued. "But that still doesn't make it right. Being alone is a terrible thing, nobody should have to be all alone... but we're not alone anymore. I'm right here, and I won't go anywhere if it would leave you alone again."  
  
Her reply was slightly muffled by his shirt. "You're still a jerk, Eriks. I don't know why I had to talk to you that day..."  
  
"Heh, you're just too kind to us poor alley bums. Speaking of which, it looks like you've had a rough time trying to find me. How about you go and get all washed up with Milly?"  
  
She nodded in his chest, and Milly led her off once she had disengaged from him. That left just three people in the room, which was soon reduced to two after he politely but firmly insisted that Knives go pick out a bedroom.  
  
"So."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Nothing else was said for a time. Meryl sighed, and leaned over to rest her head on his arm. It was good to feel her that close again.  
  
"Seems bad luck just follows you everywhere and rubs of on anyone nearby, doesn't it?"  
  
"It does indeed..." He steeled himself for what he had to say next. "I wouldn't blame you if you told me to get out of your life after what being near me has caused."  
  
Her voice was as detached as his was. "What if I did?"  
  
He swallowed once, and spoke. "Then I'd go. I'd go somewhere far enough away that I couldn't hurt you, then I think I'd cry. I don't think I would stop for a very long time."  
  
She shifted closer to him. The movement said more than words could, but there were still things to be said. "My life won't ever be the same. My career's ruined, my other job prospects are dismal, and I can't stay anywhere for too long before the bounty hunters will arrive in droves."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be. It's not your fault, or my fault. I don't think it's really anyone's fault unless you can just point the finger at humanity. However, I've seen where that leads, and I don't want to go there."  
  
This wasn't like her. Then again, he wasn't quite himself either. "What happened, exactly?"  
  
"They arrested me when I got to the head office, but not before they tried to trick all the details out of me. They said I had been brainwashed or otherwise coerced into becoming part of your gang, and threw me in jail. I was hurt, alone, and cold, but more than anything I was terrified. Not of what might happen, but of things I hadn't yet been able to do that I wanted to do. Things I might not ever get to do in there. And above all else, I was terrified that you might be driven over the edge by what was happening. ...I could hardly close my eyes before the nightmares appeared."  
  
"Nightmares aren't predictors."  
  
"Yeah, just mirrors for your own fears, which lent them an air of realism. Vash, _promise_ me you won't change! No matter what might happen, don't ever give up that goofball dream of yours!"  
  
_"Goofball dream, eh?"_ Well, it was descriptive. Too bad it had already been shattered once. Somehow, she had managed to pull the sundered fragments back together into something stronger than it had been before, but now she was a part of it. If she left, could its fragile crystal stay together? He just didn't know. He could tell a little white lie... But to _her_? About _this_? He pondered and debated, and she shifted closer still. "I can't say for sure on my own dreams... but I can promise that the nightmares will _never_ become real. Will that do?"  
  
A long pause. Nothing was to be heard from either, or at least nothing loud enough to be heard over the very muted murmurs that would come from deeper in the apartment and the occasional splash of water. He jumped a bit when she did speak. "I suppose, for now."  
  
The final distance between them was closed. They spent some time like that- maybe a minute, or an hour, or a blissful eternity. Time was unimportant. He was still welcome to trod life's path with her, and it filled him with relief. Not that he was worried, or anything. The sweat running down his sides was purely from the heat. Yeah. She got just a fraction louder, and sat just a bit more upright- Subtle signals that told him this next phase was going to be easier. He could kiss her just for that much.  
  
"I could ask you what plan you have to keep me safe, but I already know that you don't have one. Oh, don't you dare try that stupid grin on me! I know you too well for that, Mr. Vash the Stampede."  
  
_"Dang, shot down before I could even flap off the ground."_ "Okay, so you can still see through me as good as ever. So, what plan do you have?"  
  
"Not much of one, I'm afraid. I'm an outlaw now, and I don't know the first thing about how to be one. Therefor, I need to learn the trade, so to speak. There's sixty billion double dollars out there that nobody's been able to claim, and I need to know how you managed that. Beyond the plant benefits."  
  
"Well, the most important rule to being an outlaw is to always be prepared to just drop everything and run. Not being there when the bullets arrive is great, and if you know they're coming just jump out sooner. As such, you can't let yourself get too attached to anything, or you'll be slowed by the burden."  
  
"...we're already completely screwed on that, aren't we?"  
  
"Yep, blown that one clear into orbit!"  
  
They glanced at each other, and he could see the spark of amusement deep in those eyes. She lifted her arm and placed it across his shoulders. Wait, wasn't he supposed to do that? "Well, if we've already done that much to the poor rule, might as well kick it into the suns from there. Let's get married."  
  
He suddenly found himself pitched over the couch's armrest to land heels-over-head on the floor. He shifted his legs and managed to get himself merely horizontal from mostly inverted, and could see that something the prior owners of the apartment had kept had been scratching at the underside of the armrest. A bit of couch fluff drifted down from the gaping wound in the green cushioning to land in his hair. Meryl's head popped over the armrest a moment later, wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape. She had just said something, hadn't she?  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
No, that wasn't what she had said. Well, she had said _that_ just then, but it was something she had said right before that statement that he couldn't remember. Why couldn't all those little Thomases running around in the air above be a bit quieter, and where was that birdsong coming from? Terribly distracting, it was indeed. Okay, so they were discussing the finer points of life on the run, then they agreed that they couldn't abide by the most important rule, then they loosened up a bit, and then she said- "M- M- _Married_?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
He was on his feet in an instant. The angels of heaven were surely smiling down on him then and there, he could practically see their divine light and golden wings, okay, so one had gold-painted cardboard training wings and was dribbling cigarette ash on the rug, but damn, they were _there_!  
  
"Are you okay?" she repeated.  
  
"Oh, I am _more_ than okay! Yes, yes, a thousand times yes! I, Vash the Stampede, shall become your loving husband for all time! ...uh, where's the ring?"  
  
"We need the rings already?"  
  
"No, the engagement ring... Wait, I'm supposed to ask you!"  
  
"You are?"  
  
"Well, yeah. Oh man, I don't have an engagement ring for you yet!"  
  
"The what ring?"  
  
"...you don't know much of the ceremony, do you."  
  
"I guess not. It never seemed too important until quite recently."  
  
He looked down at her confused face as she perched on the armrest. There was a slight hint of worry that she had somehow messed it up. Well, she had, but since when did anything around him happen quite as expected? He broke out in a huge grin that his face could barely contain, and she sprouted a nervous counterpart to it. Okay, that did it, he had to do _it_ now. "Oh, you just look adorable!"  
  
"I _what_?"  
  
The blush that spread across her face just made it worse. "You're so cute like that! Tickle-hugs!"  
  
As the activity that started sort of on the couch slid off it, and then kind of swept around the room with all the thought of a few involuntary reflexes, heads began to emerge from the various rooms. As the laughter got louder, it led to a pair of knowing smiles and a variety of open-mouthed stares. Two stares got pulled back into the kitchen by one knowing smile which happened, by way of quite a few muscles and neurons, to be attached to a pair of abnormally strong hands that were quite good at gripping shoulders. Another one made a gagging motion before it got tugged back into the bathroom by the other knowing smile, and the final head looked around to make sure that nobody was there to see it. Once satisfied, it made a mirror of the first gagging motion, having decided that such an expression was called for at such a display from the main room. Of course, this was all completely missed by the two who were rolling around on the floor, each forcibly making the other emit whoop after whoop. It was, all in all, just what the two needed. That is, until one decided that while laughter is the best medicine, this was overdosing.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
In the apartment directly below, the thumping and mildly dampened laughter was getting to be quite an interruption of their evening card game. While Hearts was certainly less stressful and more family-friendly than Poker, there were limits on what one could tolerate in the way of disturbances while playing it. Especially when said disturbances might not be easily explained to the young'uns. His lover started to give him that look that meant he had better take care of it, but before he could unseat himself to go get something to pound on the ceiling with, there was one extra-hard thump accompanied by a few short words.  
  
"Ow! What'd I do?"  
  
The young'uns looked up curiously, then back to him when no more noises were forthcoming from up above. Their little eyes were asking questions, and one seemed to be delighting in the knowledge that whatever it was would make him all flustered if he had to explain it. Thus, he just tossed down a card, and slipped the queen of spades to the one courting nasty little child thoughts. That'll teach 'em to respect their elders.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
Back upstairs, breaths were being caught from the various places they had been lost. No small task, mind you- after being tossed around so, it takes a while to catch them all. Not that either particularly minded losing them to begin with.  
  
As he panted on the floor, he turned to gaze up at goddess in gray that graced the pea green sofa with her presence. Okay, so maybe that was a bit sappy, but a little sappy is in all good fun and good spirits, right? Besides, that was a great way to introduce the next outlaw living rule- don't act like an outlaw, or if you happen to be a bit too uptight, try and forget what you are every now and then. As she panted on the sofa, he could see a good bit of annoyance, a helping of happiness, a pinch of nostalgia, and complete obliviousness towards certain unfavorable aspects of life. It wouldn't take long for her to remember, but for now everything in her world was blond and idiotic.  
  
It was a little thing, but it was something he could do for her, and that was reason enough. She leaned foreward and wagged a finger at him, but the smile behind it countermanded any threat it tried to express. He flashed pearly whites with a lopsided grin, and then the moment was interrupted by more growling noises from their midsections.  
  
"Ready for food?"  
  
A nod on his part.  
  
"Well, let's see what those three managed to cook up since they escaped."  
  
"As long as they kept Frank away, it should be edible. He can fix a gun better than anyone, but when it comes to meals, anything beyond a opening a can is best left to others. On the road, we had to pull him out of meal rotation after a few too many inedible dinners."  
  
"Something so bad even you call it inedible? What does he do, burn the water?"  
  
"Well, that one time..."  
  
She shook her head at him languidly then crossed the room, stepping over his prone form. Aw man, cavalry pants were just no fun to look up at. He followed her as she pushed open the kitchen door, and he sniffed the air. Hmm... definitely wasn't burning. He was tempted to have another go at her sides while he was at her back, but decided not too. There was luck, and then there was pushing luck.  
  
Besides, he'd have to get Lina as well next time.

* * *

Three...two...one...all together now!  
  
Everyone: "Awwwww..."  
  
Legato: ....  
  
Sweet, wasn't it?  
  
Wolfwood: Yeah, and I got a cameo!  
  
Sorry, glee-inspired visions don't count. You need flesh, and yours is all worm-chewed under a pile of dirt somewhere.  
  
Wolfwood: Geeze, give a man his moments would ya...  
  
By sandworms, no less! Big ones!  
  
Wolfwood: _Enough already_!  
  


**Reviewer Responses**

  
  
cjflutterbye: You spotted the important plot bit, so you get a cookie! Or an hour with the character of your choice ;) And yes, _everything_ emergency-related is kept in little glass boxes with little hammers nearby, because breaking stuff is fun!  
  
betsytheripper: Eep, not good on that diagnosis thing. Odd thing is, I self-taught myself to use a keyboard, and evidently got it all wrong according to everyone I've talked to about it- except that it makes me almost immune to stress problems. Go figure. And thanks for the e-mail note, I already forgot I had it up... Bode well for the future, that does not.  
  
SapphireWhiteTigress: Yes, Lina. I think that should finish up the new faces for a while.  
  
Sorian: I live in my parent's basement right now. I have little to offer to the law-ninjas aside from belly-button lint.  
  
Neptune Butterfly: I think I made things lively, but it's all in the eye of the beholder. ¤disintegrates a wall section¤  
  
Elektra3: Heh, you guessed right on the reference. Pray that Vash never decides to get Knives a pet bunny. The world is just plain screwed if that happens. (Oh, and glad to have you aboard!)  
  
Yma: Perhaps I should start to worry if I can keep pulling off Knives. Takes one to know one, after all. And of course, since I said I wouldn't stop until the end, one of the many gods that have nothing better to do but throw stuff at me decided to lob a bit extra. I'm looking foreward to a relative of Vash coming to visit soon, I think s/he's called Frances. Joy. >.<


	24. Chapter 23: NoGood Sneaks

I was playing a bit of good old X-Com the other day (great game, makes time vanish), and noticed something odd- one of my better soldiers (high TU, Stamina, Strength, Firing Ability, and Bravery) happened to be named Patricia _Thompson_. It rattled around a bit in my head- it even randomly choose blonde hair. That's one heck of a coincidence.  
  
Disclaimer: Or maybe it's not... ¤eerie music plays¤

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 23: No-Good Sneaks

  
  
Life was good. _Really_ good. Indeed, he couldn't ask for more right now, and just let his thoughts follow the course of events that led to this moment.  
  
When the announcement was made to the crowd at the dinner table, congratulations raced around. Milly had jumped up and squashed Meryl for the second time that day, while Frank and Roy slapped him hard enough on the back to knock loose some of the bolts that held him together. Too bad Knives had to be such a stick in the mud about it- the look he had initially would have been just right for a third eye or extra limb spontaneously appearing.  
  
The food vanished quickly under the relentless assault of so many mouths. For once, he was actually a bit slow on the intake, taking time to just _look_ at the gathering. So many different faces, some familiar, some not, but all sharing a meal together. He was filled with the knowledge that they were his friends, his _family_. Such a wonderful feeling to have, and it hardly felt fair to keep it just to himself. Thus, he /shouted/ it out to any that could hear. It earned him a peck on the cheek from Meryl, which was greeted with general whooping. It also, for a small moment, caused Knives to appear somber and pause in his meal. His barriers were up as usual, but the expression on his face was easily readable. _Humans_ had caused that wonderous feeling, and it had shaken Knives to learn of it. One feeling had done more than a month's worth of talk.  
  
After dinner, the crowd split up. For most of them, that meant bedtime preparations- the day had been exhausting, both mentally and physically. Knives locked himself away to ponder what had happened. Rai-dei took to the floor, preparing a few spare sheets into a sleeping mat by the bedroom hall- some insistence on being 'unworthy' to be in a bedroom, and citing the need for a guard against intruders. Well, whatever made him happy. The Thompsons had wandered back to the kitchen, sporting larger than normal grins. He had a sneaking suspicion that they were planning something, and could hardly wait for the surprise they cooked up, literally or figuratively. Frank retired to his own room once he gave up trying to pry Rai-dei off the floor, and that left just three more people- Lina, Meryl, and himself.  
  
Things got a bit rocky at the start. Neither lady wanted to be without his handsome visage that night, for reasons that were all to similar. Meryl pulled him off towards one room at the same time Lina pulled him to the room opposite. They started to bicker, which he had chuckled at once the sparks began to fly. His amusement was cut short, first by the stares of imminent painful retribution, and _then_ by the unpleasant yanking of the limbs as he got tugged back and forth. When they both started to pull on an arm, he had to say something quickly before he got torn in half. Of course, it had been the wrong thing to say for his health. "Let's all sleep together!" didn't go over well, leading to simultaneous exclamations of "Pervert!" and a smack to the head at the same time as a kick to the shin. He had slid back under the combined force a good six feet or so into the main room, before the hurt registered and made him collapse in a heap. After accusing each other of being the cause of this, they glowered for a moment. One whispered something to the other, and their heads rotated his way. They had sported perfectly normal happy looks, which scared him half to death.  
  
His fears of them and a giant cleaver proved unfounded. As it was, it turned out to be a pretty good compromise. They took to his idea after all, with a slight modification. They could all use the same bed, but while the girls were tucked away under the covers, he was exiled, fully clothed, to the air above. It was settled, whether he liked it or not.  
  
At that very moment, he liked it.  
  
Looking to his left, he could see Lina slumbering with a smile, absolutely glowing between the light from the moons, the plant, and Milly's expert scrubbing. The overall effect made her almost ghostlike, something that didn't sit well with him. A little longer on the road, and that might have been all that was left of her. His left arm hovered over her back, protective, ready to defend.  
  
Looking to his right, he could easily make out the curves of Meryl's profile, silhouetted against the light coming in. All he could see were tantalizing shadows against the ethereal green and yellow glows far beyond. She breathed deeply as she slept, the constant rise and fall hypnotizing. His right arm was allowed under the covers, and his hand intertwined with one of hers warmly, sensually.  
  
He figured it must be getting towards midnight, but for some reason he couldn't sleep. It was like just laying here was more than enough to relax his body, refresh his mind, and soothe his soul. It was love- two types, completely different in nature, but both falling under that same simple word. He did finally drift off to sleep that night, but did not dream- there was no need for them, when reality held so much more.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
Sleep. A period of time during which the body underwent various upkeeping cycles, while the mind would detach itself from normal sensory inputs to focus solely upon forming new connections between seemingly disparate pieces of information. However, sometimes the pieces simply couldn't be connected, even if you had seen, or in this case, /heard/ it.  
  
Marriage, to one of those... _things_? The very idea made bile rise, but to his brother it was happiness the likes of which he'd never felt. Anger flared - how _dare_ the spiders sink themselves so deeply into his brother's psyche? When they turned, the wounds would reach deep... possibly even fatal. Simply speaking the truth wasn't doing anything, so more drastic measures were called for. He still held two aces, as the analogy went. Playing them would absolutely crush his brother, but the consequences if he _didn't_ were almost too horrible to dwell upon.  
  
Hybrid offspring... Assuming that there was enough of a genetic match, which he strongly doubted but couldn't rule out, that was what the ultimate end of his brother's dalliance would be. Which outcome would be worse, he could not determine. Human minds in plant bodies would guarantee the consumption and destruction of world upon world across the galaxy, whereas a plant mind in a human body was a cruelty he would never wish upon any of their advanced state.  
  
Even though his room of choice was an interior one, he could tell the day was starting. The /noise/ was just beginning to pick up from an overnight low. Slowly but steadily, it was increasing. Pity- even though they tended to get /louder/ while asleep, it was so much less stressful to /listen/ to. Much more harmonic, indeed, there were certain parallels to musical composition that could be drawn. It was still a poor second to the masterpiece that was the communication network among his sisters. Given a choice, he would always choose them over the bleating of the human minds.  
  
The thought returned a memory of a flippant remark from the small pet brother intended to ...marry. She had remarked that she had thought to find him, not Vash, inside the plant facility. It did hold a certain logic- the company was preferable. However, with his senses, merely being anywhere in the city was sufficient to /hear/ everything. Might as well stay put and save a little energy. And on the topic of pets... He should get up before they all roused. He didn't /hear/ any of the ones in this living space up yet, so he should be able to get morning meal in before the rush.  
  
It was therefore with intense annoyance that he found the large pet already preparing food in the kitchen. He made yet another note to be sure to examine that brain of hers sometime- such stealth was dangerous. In any case, it was canceled out by her dim mental faculty. She kept turning her back on him as he watched from the table in the middle. It would be so simple for him to just reach over and slice apart the vertebrae in her neck, fast and painless. She was far too trusting, but it did seem to let her wander about in a state of neigh-perpetual bliss. It must be nice to be like that, at least until the truth breaks through.  
  
At least the pet was wise enough to not babble uselessly. However, she was taking too long, and brother's favorite awakened and entered shortly. She was hardly alert- his presence probably hadn't registered yet, as she sat next to him. The large one placed a steaming cup of stimulant before the small one. Feh, morning cup of coffee indeed. More like a mild addiction to compensate for irregularities in her brain chemistry. She drained the cup quickly, and he could almost see the synapses beginning to fire as it took hold. She yawned.  
  
"Good morning Milly."  
  
"Morning, Meryl! Did you sleep well?"  
  
"Best I've had in weeks."  
  
"And Mr. Vash?"  
  
"Sleeping like a big baby. I swear, I wasn't out for even a second before he took over the space I had been in."  
  
"And Lina?"  
  
"The same. There's definitely a family resemblance between them, adopted or not. Though from the way they look, they seem less like siblings. Vash just looks so, well, fatherly with her. Though if he said it I'm sure she'd break his leg."  
  
"How wonderful!"  
  
More like how disgusting. He did not need to be reminded of what brother was intending to try. She just cracked a grin.  
  
"Yeah, though that would make me the mother in combat boots."  
  
He found that amusing. Humans and their expressions.  
  
"What're you smiling about?"  
  
"Your ignorance. The 'Your mother wears combat boots' expression originated centuries ago, when females were considered unfit for military service. The only ones who wore combat boots were those that tagged along with the male troops. The camp whores, so to speak. It's quite the grave insult."  
  
"Did you _really_ have to explain it?"  
  
"No. I simply do not like you."  
  
"The feeling's mutual!"  
  
The large one stepped in before further discomfort could be caused. Killing may be forbidden, but there was more than one method to dispose of unwanted pets. Enough prompting, and they might just leave on their own accord. One could always hope.  
  
"Why don't you go change and I'll get Mr. Knives some breakfast while you're busy."  
  
"Change into what? I had to leave everything back in December."  
  
"But your luggage was waiting at the branch office when I got there. They said you had sent it ahead. It's sitting right over there."  
  
"Huh, maybe Sara or Marianne sent it ahead. But why would they use my name? That's just asking for-"  
  
"Stop."  
  
The pets froze at the command. His voice was level, but still conveyed authority with effectiveness. They were good at following instructions, for all their other faults- some of which may be too hazardous.  
  
"What now?" hissed the small one.  
  
"There is inconsistency with regards to your luggage's origins. I suggest you not touch it."  
  
Her eyes rolled as I approached the pink suitcase. "Fine! Poke at it until you're happy it won't explode, in the meantime I'm getting breakfast."  
  
"It won't take me that long."  
  
"I'm sure your super competent plant butt can master the workings of a lady's suitcase in under five minutes."  
  
"Actually, I have no intention of mastering its workings, or of even touching it at this point."  
  
"Yeah, those cooties are real killers. Maybe you should run screaming out the door."  
  
"I was referring to the large quantity of high explosives contained within in regards to my judgment on whether or not to touch it."  
  
"What?"  
  
Foolish creatures. Then again, they didn't have the benefit of magnetic field manipulations that allowed plants to see and change the positions of metallic objects. One of the few abilities that brother actually had an even greater command of, though he wasted it on trying to protect the spiders from themselves. At least it gave him plenty of practice. However, for a display such as this, even something as simple as a well placed magnet would suffice. Since letting the pets figure it out themselves would be foolhardy, someone responsible had to step in and explain in terms their minds could comprehend. 'Gripping' the trigger tightly, he opened the case and gave them one.  
  
"_This_ is the trigger mechanism, which would normally be activated upon opening if not for my 'super competent plant butt' as you quaintly put it. Those large bricks are the explosives proper, and these pins I just pulled out are the detonators. Can I trust you not to jab the explosives with electrical wires?"  
  
Their heads bobbed in acknowledgment, so that ended the matter. Before food preparations could be started, the small one again interfered.  
  
"I guess I owe you my thanks."  
  
"I simply did not want to be injured by your incompetence."  
  
"Why would they want to do something like this... And how could they have guessed I was here so quickly?"  
  
"I consider it more likely that it was an attempt on my brother's life. Well planned for spiders, considering their faulty assumptions. First they separate my brother from you, the second in command, then use an expendable patsy to deliver the bomb. Without the leadership, the rest of the assumed gang would fall apart and be easy to clean up, of those not caught in the blast. Now be quiet and let me eat."  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
_"Why?"_  
  
It was a simple question, one easy to ask, but it beheld so many possibilities as to be legion in both reasons to ask and in answers that might come. It was the only question that bounced around her head while she stared mutely at the now open suitcase. They had been so nice... Nervous, yeah, but so was nearly everyone new in the city. She didn't want to believe what was down there was real, but there it was to see. Why had they tried to kill Mr. Vash and Meryl and Mr. Marlin and Lina and all the other nice people? Mr. Knives seemed to think they didn't care about who else might get hurt.  
  
This hurt. How could they be so uncaring? Thinking about it was making her mad, and the more she thought the madder she got. She had to know why, and the people who knew would be back at the branch office. Mind made up, she snatched up the suitcase, bomb and all, ducked into the bedroom for her duster and Nicholas, and was about to leave when the funny man who helped Meryl stopped her.  
  
"I heard what happened. I shall assist you in finding answers for this treachery!"  
  
"You really don't have to Mr. Rai-dei."  
  
"I must insist. Such cowardly tactics come from dishonorable opponents. You will need someone to watch your back."  
  
"My back? It feels just fine, but if you think something's wrong you can watch it."  
  
It didn't take as long to get to the branch office today. However, another problem crept up when they got there. The office wouldn't open until nine, and it wasn't even eight yet. They'd have to wait.  
  
"We can go in now. There are people inside already."  
  
"But they're not open yet."  
  
Her stomach growled before he responded. "Oh my! I completely forgot about breakfast! Come on Mr. Rai-dei, let's go get something to eat while we wait for them to open." He must be pretty hungry too, how could she have forgotten something as important as breakfast? You'd never get anything done well without a good breakfast. Luckily, there were a few places open and she dragged Mr. Rai-dei into one.  
  
"Are you quite sure about this?"  
  
"Oh, I'm very sure. Don't worry, I have enough to buy for both of us, so dig in!"  
  
The meal passed swiftly. Mr. Rai-dei turned out to have quite a lot of fabulous stories once she got him to talk. Fantastic tales of places from a really long time ago, all the way back on Earth. She was so enthralled with the stories that it wasn't until the clock chimed ten that she noticed how long they'd been there.  
  
"Ohmygosh! They've been open for an hour! Come on Mr. Rai-dei, let's get some answers."  
  
She grabbed his hand and took off running for the office. Bursting in, she could see that there was already a bit of a line. She sighed and got to the back of it.  
  
"Forgive my ignorance Ms. Milly, but couldn't you just go ahead as a employee?"  
  
"Er, maybe. I kind of forgot that part of the handbook, so I'll just wait. Didn't you say samurai value politeness?"  
  
He appeared impressed. "You listen well. It is part of our code. I had not thought you were listening to it at all."  
  
"But you told it so well! My big brother says that listening is easy if there's a really good speaker."  
  
He nodded, his face the closest to a smile she had seen yet. He was really too uptight, just the act of smiling helped you feel happy, and he could certainly use some happiness. He was usually so serious, but he was a lot better than Mr. Knives- all his time was spent either serious or grouchy, and that was no way to go through life. They waited in line until their turn came, and the anger was back as if it had never left for a moment.  
  
"What were you thinking giving me that thing!"  
  
"Ms. Thompson?"  
  
She brought up the suitcase and popped it open. The lady attendant yelped and jumped back as the bomb spilled out onto the counter. That didn't make sense- people would remember if they set a bomb. They must not have known.  
  
"_That's_ what was in there?"  
  
Mr. Rai-dei spoke next. "How did it come into your possession?"  
  
"Some deputies came in a few days ago and dropped it off! They said not to open it and to give it to you! That's all I know!"  
  
"You _lie_!" Mr. Rai-dei drew his sword part way, then paused for a moment. In the next instant, he shoved her over the desk into the arms of the scared attendant, which made them both fall to the floor. Shots began to ring out, so she grabbed Nicholas and pulled out one of the Bola guns. Peeking out, she saw a whole lot of lawmen fighting with Mr. Rai-dei. He was very fast, and every time he got close to one he would slash through their gun then knock them out with his free hand. A sudden bang sounded to her left and a few strands of hair floated down before her eyes. She dove, twisted, and shot in one move. The bola bullet neatly split in half to entangle the shooter with the chair he had been using for cover not five feet away. Scanning the room quickly, she shot at anyone with a gun that would be hard for Mr. Rai-dei to reach. It was over in under a minute, with all the lawmen either out cold or too tied up to be a threat.  
  
The floor under her shifted, and when she looked down she saw the poor attendant shaking in terror beneath her knees. The lady had a look of pure fear written across her face and sobbed softly as the gunsmoke and dust settled around them. She smiled at her as she scrambled off.  
  
"I think the shooting's all over now. Do you think they'll take the damage out of my pay?"  
  
The lady didn't seem to hear her. Of course, with all those gunshots just then it was hard to hear what anyone was saying.  
  
"Please, take anything you want, just don't kill me!"  
  
"But I'd never do that..."  
  
"It was all the lawmen's plans, they thought they could get rid of the Stampede with the bomb! I had no choice!"  
  
"But... why'd you send it with me?"  
  
"You're one of his gang now, aren't you? They said you've been made into a top enforcer for him, someone who does his every whim!"  
  
"Well, I _do_ do him a few favors every now and then, but he's really nice."  
  
The lawman stuck to the chair muttered "That bastard..." under his breath. Mr. Rai-dei shouted over the desk from the middle of the room. "Hurry up! There are more on the way!"  
  
The lady curled up at his voice, shaking and sobbing and begging to not be killed. Everything was going so wrong... She placed the guns back into Nicholas and slid it shut.  
  
"I'm really sorry for all this trouble everyone!"  
  
She slung her burden across her back and walked out the side door. This was really bad. She wanted to just drag her feet and kick a few pebbles, but Mr. Rai-dei urged speed. Reluctantly, she brought herself up to his pace as they ran off through the alleys behind the branch office.

* * *

I'm promoting Legato to 'Squaddie' and giving him a PsiAmp- he'll make those Mutons dance the Can-Can. Wait, don't use it on the civilians! Stop that! No, not towards the Reapers! ...ouch.  
  
Legato: ¤lips twitch upwards¤  
  
Yeah, yeah, my fault for forgetting your "Humans must die!" policy. ...you did something else, didn't you?  
  
Legato: Merely... brought a few friends.  
  
¤slowly turns around¤ _Chryssalids!_ Run, for the love of Bob _run_, as fast as your puny human legs can go!  
  
¤darts into a room and locks the door behind him¤ Well, that was unpleasant. Poor Milly got suckered into bomb delivery. At this rate, Knives might just end up the only one without a Wanted poster. Curse that uncaring and quick to judge bureaucracy!  
  


**Reviewer Responses**

  
  
Elektra3: Updates are sadly still only 'whenever' (which is usually once a week). And yeah, it probably would come down to minced plant once Bun-bun learns that Knives was responsible for the complete loss of all the ship recordings of Baywatch. Poor supervillain.  
  
cjflutterbye: Well, Knives sounded like he didn't get much rest last night. Do try to remember that they're not built for nonstop use. Oh, and have a free toothbrush, it should help against the cavities induced by the first part of this chapter.  
  
betsytheripper: As per the weather's usual "Whatever it feels like doing" policy, I did not get the expected biblical flood. It was barely enough to water the trees... Maybe Ivan will provide the promised destruction. I'll be sure to get that halo to Wolfwood, assuming the Chryssalids don't get him.  
  
Yma: Vash may need to get a classroom set up- there look to be quite a few takers for Outlaw Life 101. Glad I'm keeping in with the characters, though it's far easier with some- Milly's a tough one to write.  
  
Sorian: _Everyone_ seemed to like the smoking angel. Just wait until he sets the carpet on fire.  
  
Hopeful Wings: Well, not everyone is destined to be a five-star chef. And welcome! You must be this crazy to read. ¤points at a line on the wall, just before a set of Heavy Plasma shots vaporizes the line¤ 


	25. Chapter 24: Good Sneaks

Hmm... Seems like I picked up a few more friends thanks to my writing habit. I've also started to get deluged with E-mails, which are turning my poor starving Ego into Ego the Hutt. All it needs now are bikini-clad dancing girls. Volunteers?  
  
Disclaimer: Terms of employment offer no restitution should anyone be messily devoured by pit-monsters.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 24: Good Sneaks

  
  
"There he is!"  
  
The aforementioned 'he' looked up at the voice. He had woken up just moments earlier to find the day nearly half gone and both sides of the bed empty and cold. One of them could have woken him up, but he must have been dead to the world. Okay, so that was fairly normal for him, but nobody coming in to _try_ and wake him? In any case, he was awake, and feeling like sixty billion double dollars. He had gotten up and started his morning stretching, but found that there wasn't a stiff muscle anywhere on him. He could slack a little on his gun practice and did so, since nature was calling. However, he hadn't so much as stepped out before the voice cut in.  
  
Well. Looks like someone must have called for backup, because the last time he'd seen a space this packed it had 'Sardines' on the label. He put on his smile and waved to the mass. "Hello!"  
  
"Finally!"  
  
Meryl's head popped out of the crowd, and he watched the top third or so of it bob and weave as it navigated through the morass. Just what were all those people doing here, anyway? They weren't equipped for a lynching and no tar or feathers were in evidence, well, aside from those three huge feathers stuck in that one cavalry cap... Ah. This must have something to do with Milly and Roy. A surprise party! He'd have to get them a tankard of pudding. _"Hmm... They **are** pretty good at eating... Better make that one each."_  
  
By this time the bobbing mass of black hair had finally made it out of the cavalry crowd. Come to think of it, this crowd was doing very little partying for a party. And why was everyone scribbling stuff down? Oh well, he'd figure it out. Right now, it was time to play for the audience. "Oh my beloved raven-haired beauty, have all these people come to behold the mighty radiance of our affection?"  
  
She blushed, grimaced, and hissed out "Sort of" through clenched teeth. Eep, next time try for less sap or he might get a headache. However, all she did was grab his arm and drag him into the crowd. This wasn't much better, as he kept getting pats on the back and pinches on the butt. "Mer-_yl_, they're not keeping their hands to themselves!"  
  
Uh oh. He knew what that tightening grip and slight hunch meant. He had officially stepped over The Line. Luckily, though of what type he wasn't sure, he was spared her wrath as a foot slammed into his shin. "Cut the crap Eriks, we're trying to plan your wedding here!"  
  
"Ow ow ow..." He would have said good morning, but she had managed to plug him in the exact same spot from last night, sending him to the floor as people looked on. He was hauled up moments later by one of the perpetrators of this planning-party, who proceeded to slowly move his head back and forth all the while looking with an intense stare. After a bit of that, the elder Thompson squinted out one eye and began to poke at him. "She calls you Eriks and you went down with one kick- are you _sure_ you're Vash the Stampede?"  
  
Meryl sighed. "Yes, he is. I just wish I had that sort of problem."  
  
He suddenly found himself stuffed under one of Roy's arms, while Meryl was likewise treated by the other. "Hoo boy! I can see why little sis likes you two so much! Hardly had half of the fun you two are in her letters!"  
  
He dropped them and cut a path through the crowd, laughing more like a little kid than a grown man. Some space was made for them on the sofa, which the two of them gladly took. Man, why couldn't the powers-that-be let him have a few moments of peace in the morning before starting up his daily injury quota? Then he remembered that they _had_ let him sleep in, so it was sort of balanced. The Thompson emerged from the crowd again, and squatted in front of the sofa. "Well, impressed? I asked if a few of my buddies could lend a hand, and the response was great! Even had a few of the ones who hail from the city join in, so we should have the whole thing tossed together in no time flat!"  
  
He beamed a grin forward and orated. "So, all of this just for us? I will always remember you gratitude and generosity in making this the most happy of events!"  
  
"Well... It's not entirely just for _you_." His voice dropped to a whisper. "We're kinda going to drag the commander and the quartermaster into a second ceremony. It's a secret though."  
  
Ooh, devious. Somehow, he knew that Milly had suggested that, probably intending to boost the turnout and get more help. She was really pushing to get the two of them together, and to get everything as close to perfect as possible. There was helping to catch the mayfly of love, and then there was pinning it to the wall with a stungun bolt. He'd have to ask her about that sometime. In any case, he was getting a feeling that the crowd would break up soon, and sure enough the various scraps of paper were being stuffed away.  
  
"Okay boys, time for you to get lost, there are bridal matters to be attended to!"  
  
The male half of the crowd, including himself, was prodded toward and out the front door. "Er, ladies, just one second..."  
  
"No way! It's bad luck for the groom to stick around. Out you go!"  
  
He was shoved out the door and had it slam behind him. He blinked a few times at the rest of the men in the hall. Well, mostly men. Looked like Lina had a bit of an attachment to him. Still, had he just been tossed out of his apartment? He turned around and called through the door. "Er, but what about- oh, morning Knives."  
  
He brother scowled in his face, not exactly the most pleasant of things to have all of two inches in front of you nose. The door slammed again behind his brother's scowl before he could ask over the suddenly appearing shoulders for another minute inside. His upraised finger wilted a little, then crumbled entirely to join its brethren in twiddling behind his back. "So... Feel like touring the city, bro?"  
  
His forced laugh did nothing to move the glacial expression that was still so close that he could see every crease in the frown. "We appear to have an infestation."  
  
"All right! I knew you'd get a sense of humor one of these days..." The scowl remained immobile, and though Knives said nothing there was the slightest of motions on his face. "You were being serious... Oh man, well, let me show you to the plant facility. Nobody goes there." He made little grumbling noises, but Knives didn't take the bait. It looked like there wouldn't be much conversation.  
  
Seems that Knives was taking being escorted out of his hidey-hole pretty well. No screaming or blood at least. When he turned towards the stairs, he noticed that the rest of the group had already cleared out down the stairs or into the elevator, unwilling to endure the scowl and also knowing what the plant behind it thought of them. Okay, so Knives was still being his usual master of socializing with large empty areas. They started toward the stairs, but just as he reached the first steps down he ran into an unlikely pair coming up. The frowns sported only looked right on one of the two.  
  
"Hey big girl, you look a little down."  
  
"Oh, hello Mr. Vash! Sorry, just had a bit of a bad day so far."  
  
The Thompson grin was set at half mast, so it had to have been more than just a bit of a bad day. "What happened?"  
  
"Well, somebody put a bomb into Meryl's luggage."  
  
"_What_?"  
  
"Don't worry, Mr. Knives was really helpful in disarming it this morning!"  
  
"_Who_ did what?"  
  
"Though when I went back to the office to ask them why, a whole lot of lawmen attacked."  
  
"_Who_ attacked _where_?"  
  
"Mr. Rai-dei was really helpful too, you should have seen it. He must have knocked out at least ten! But don't worry, they were all fine, I think I even saw a few of them looking for us as we were running."  
  
He turned to the samurai. Rai-dei gave an almost imperceptible shrug. "There were no fatalities or permanent injuries."  
  
What was all this about? He turned back to Milly, but found the spot she had occupied empty, save for a cat that meowed at him then pranced on up to the next floor. He heard a knock behind him, and her voice announced "It's me!"  
  
"Wait a sec!" He ran after her, but she was already inside the door. He dove for the opening, but only managed to get a facefull of the textured plastic that passed as wood. The sounds of the slam and his impact both reverberated down the hall, as Knives and Rai-dei scowled at him. He picked himself up and stared forlornly at the door that blocked his passage to the place he really needed to be.  
  
"Vash-san, I can inform you of all that happened."  
  
"Wha? Oh, that's great."  
  
"Forgive me, but you seem less than interested."  
  
"Oh, I am, I am, it's just that I, er... gotta go potty."  
  
Knives' face twitched.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
Life was funny, sometimes. An old question that had once been asked of her came back. It was one of the many questions asked of her when she was being interviewed for a position at Bernardelli, and it was so inconspicuous at the time... "Where do you see yourself in five years?" She couldn't remember what she had answered with back then, but she was certain that "On the run from the law alongside Vash the Stampede. Oh, and we'll be getting married" was _not_ what came from her mouth that day. So much had happened, correction, was _still_ happening. It was happy, sad, and scary all at once, but she'd do it all over again if given the choice. Those old philosophers were right, love really does conquer all, even one Meryl Stryfe.  
  
"Woo-we! I thought we'd never get rid of those guys."  
  
Radiohead bounced back from the door after shooing out Knives. The woman's real name was still unknown to her- all anyone ever called her was Radiohead, a nickname earned for a pair of reasons- first, she was the communications head of the 3rd, and second, she tended to repeat everything she heard during the day at night. That was just one of the innumerable little stories she had been told during her stay with the 3rd, but they only hinted at just how much there was to know. Or maybe she just wanted to get the most out of life while she could, and was suddenly seeing so much of it she had used to ignore. Such as this whole marriage thing.  
  
"Well, now that they're gone, we can work on the dress. One of my roomies had one, and it shouldn't be too hard to fit..."  
  
A large wrapped bundle was brought out and unrolled. There was so much fabric that it took a while for her to finally see what it was, and gasped. It was a dress, yes, but there was so much fine detail to it and so many frills... It had to be worth over a thousand double dollars. Someone had just handed this over? "I can't accept this.... It's too much for someone to just give away."  
  
"Well, Susan said the sand would turn to water sooner than she's be using it, and that it'd be a shame to just keep it bundled up."  
  
So the benefactor of this outrageous generosity wasn't even here? "I don't know how to thank her for this."  
  
"She also said, and I quote, 'If she wants to thank me, tell her to wear it with her heart and to _not_ invite me. I hate weddings.' Seems straightforward enough."  
  
"Wait, if she hates weddings, why did she have a wedding dress?"  
  
"Dunno. I never asked, and she never talked about it."  
  
A knock at the door interrupted, and Milly's voice floated through. "It's me!"  
  
A second later she was inside, though the door made a horrible bang as it was closed. The noise made her jump- it was a tad too similar to a gunshot. Milly looked the very image of happiness as she began to buzz over the dress. However, there was a certain forced quality to the look, one that she hadn't seen for a long time- ever since Wolfwood died. Just watching her was creating a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.  
  
"Milly... What happened?"  
  
For a brief moment, an almost... frightened expression crossed Milly's face before the forced visage of happiness came back. "Oh... Nothing happened!"  
  
"Nothing?"  
  
"Nothing means nothing!"  
  
That cinched it. The _last_ time Milly acted like this, Legato had made his introduction earlier and Monev the Gale blasted his way in to try to kill Vash. It wasn't until later that she finally realized just how much danger there was at that time, but Milly seemed to have known that they had just stepped in the quicksand. If she was acting that way again, then whatever had happened was anything but 'nothing'. A sick feeling came over her as a memory from that morning came back... _"...then use an expendable patsy to deliver the bomb."_ Knives' words echoed in her head. Damn it all, why did he have to be _right_? More importantly, if they now considered Milly expendable, and she found out... No. They _couldn't_. Milly deserved nothing but the best, not this! A wave of anguish built up, but she allowed no sign of it to surface. If Milly wanted to pretend that nothing was wrong, then she could go along with it.  
  
Fingers snapped in front of her face. "Hey! You with us?"  
  
"Wha? Oh, yeah. Just thinking."  
  
"Better not be cold feet! Now, shuck that uniform so we can fit the dress."  
  
The next hour was spent standing up as the voluminous fabric was tucked, folded, and hemmed around her. For all its bulk, it wasn't very heavy, which was good because standing up trying to remain motionless was far more tiring that most people realized. After poking a few more needles into the folds, her entourage drew back while Milly ran an appraising eye over the work. After finishing her orbit, she smiled and clapped her hands. "Perfect!"  
  
There wasn't a mirror available, which may have been for the best considering how many pins were sticking out. The dress was shed so the sewing could be done. The Cavalry, now mostly unneeded, discussed a few more points then showed themselves out, with Radiohead flashing the two of them a thumbs up. Thus they were finally alone. Milly was nothing short of a speed stitcher, which put her own 'adequate and that's it' skill with needle and thread to shame. A wordless song came out of Milly, softly hummed while inch after inch of newly formed seam emerged. The tune was melancholy, almost forlorn.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Milly looked up. "For what, Meryl?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
Milly nodded, and they went back to the dress.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
Meanwhile, a certain broomhead was skulking through the city without a care in the world- at least in the judgment of those that saw him. Inside, the tumult of thought was leading him in mental circles. Even without Rai-dei telling his tale, he knew the second he saw Milly that something was wrong. The information just fleshed it out in gory detail. He no longer had the insurance girls after him, but couldn't things have worked out differently? His record for protecting people was spotty- even at his best, sometimes he failed, and failing this time would be the worst since _then_.  
  
_"/Why do you persist like this?/"_  
  
"Knives, that's rude. We're not all telepathic, you know."  
  
"Huh? What'd he say? Was it about me?" Lina turned to glare at his brother, who followed a few steps behind them. Knives simply snorted. "Irrevelent. How quickly you humans assume the worst."  
  
"What was that?!"  
  
_"Uh oh."_ "Now now, let's all be friends!"  
  
"Fat chance!" "Unlikely."  
  
He turned forward again and sighed. He really hoped they'd stop snapping at each other, otherwise this would be one long day. Still, they did manage to keep from bickering until they were inside the facility. At least there were plenty of rooms he could duck into if they wanted him to pick a side.  
  
He tried to ignore the insults and comebacks by picturing the layout of the ship. They were in the plant section, the engines would have been back about one hundred fifty feet, past the reception area, where a street currently was. They should be right over the command computers, and from there was the docking bays, cold sleep area, general stores... Huh. The corridor they were in ended too soon. Must of had an emergency bulkhead come down. Wasn't too much beyond there anyway, just the... He froze as an idea came. If the bulkhead was here, then nobody had likely been beyond this point since the ship crashed, which meant that it could still be there. He sprang at the barrier, hunting for the opening controls. Prying off the panel, he gave them a jab. Nothing- time and a sharp sliver of shrapnel had drained the batteries of all energy, but this was a simple enough setup- he _was_ a plant, a quick zap shouldn't be any trouble. Just find the right points, send a bit of power...  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"Hot hot hot hot!" He batted down the flames that sprayed out of the recessed mechanism and hoped his eyebrows hadn't been singed off. At least it had opened up enough for him to wiggle through.  
  
"I'll be right back, you two play nice, okay?"  
  
Before either could protest, he slithered under the door into the space beyond.  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
Okay, he got another minute, then she was going in after him, air quality be damned. Knives was no help- she could have sworn he nearly laughed when she last tried to go in after Eriks, only to get a faceful of air so stale it was practically unbreathable. Now he was staring off into nowhere, and wasn't even reacting to her, as he had been for what felt like hours. She had even fallen asleep sometime, what with Eriks taking forever. Knives was so infuriating. She idly though about what would happen if she gave him her best kick to the groin. She'd bet everything she had that he'd fall over, curl up, and bawl his eyes out. His type never were able to take it. Eriks, on the other hand...  
  
A number of thuds and a familiar "Aw man..." from under the door signaled that Eriks was back. She started to bend down to get a look at wheat he had dropped, but jumped back up as a box came sliding out. Another followed, and then a few more came through before a pair of legs poked out and began to slowly squirm the rest of him under the metal. Impatient, she grabbed his ankles and yanked.  
  
"What on gunsmoke were you doing in there? What's with all this stuff?"  
  
Eriks gave her that goofy grin. "I got a few presents! Let's see... Ah, here's yours!"  
  
He thrust a box into her hands. It looked downright ancient, probably from before The Fall. What could he have possibly found back in there? There was only one way to find out... Prying the box open, she rummaged through the contents. Most items were completely unfamiliar- the only ones she recognized right away were the clothes.  
  
"Brother, this is _not_ a good idea."  
  
"I think it's a _great_ idea! This is just what we need!"  
  
"Will you two shut up and tell me what the idea is?"  
  
"Oh! Yeah, well, it's a lot to explain, so I'll save the big speech for everyone. The short version is that everyone'll get a survival suit, two-way radio, MediPatches, and some body armor. Just in case."  
  
Okay, most of that had flown over her head. She tried to link the names to the items in the box, but all she could come up with was the survival suit had to be the clothes. Come to think of it, didn't Eriks and Knives wear similar things under their clothes? Great. Eriks got her underwear as a present. At least he didn't forget her while plundering lost technology. "This is great and all, but is it okay to just take all this?"  
  
"Well, nobody else was using it... Besides, there's plenty more back there!"  
  
Eriks just laughed it up as he piled another box into her arms. He swept up the rest of the grayish objects and led them back out, going through a hole that conveniently led them past reception. It felt a little like they were running off with the contents of a bank vault, except that money would probably weigh more and be less valuable. Still, what was he thinking might happen that would require them to run off with all this? Whatever it was, she'd deal with it. Anything was better than being alone.

* * *

Well, it's been a long, hard slog, but I think we've finally cleared out all the critters that wanted to eat us. No thanks to you, Legato.  
  
Legato: ...  
  
Yeah, you do that. Anyway, my apologies for taking so long on this chapter. I didn't mean to worry ya'll, I just got so many distractions. Whoever sent the hired goons to check on me, thanks.  
  
Hired Goons: Fagetaboutit. Just make sure youse keep up the chapters, cuz the boss dun like to wait, ya know? There might be an "accident", if ya know what I mean.  
  
Great guys, great guys. Real inspiring fellows. Got me out of my slump. And now, to wrap things up with-  
  
**Reviewer Responses**  
  
cjflutterbye: Well, the weather has spared me, nothing happens this far inland except drenchings. I hope I'm not too rusty after the break in writing...  
  
betsytheripper: The trees are starting to drop leaves. Sometimes the leaf will change colors, sometimes it'll just be dry. The plot action is slowing down for a bit, but all things will lurch forward in due time. Hopefully less time than this action-deficient chapter took...  
  
kitsune: Cats, angst, forbidden bathrooms, technological goody grab bags, and hair-singing spurts of flame. I can feel it in this chapter! Looks like Vash finally decided to get some decent equipment for his beleaguered band, should have done it a good deal sooner, I'd say.  
  
Sorian: Knives will get a wanted poster? Somehow, that just seems too fair. More fun to have blame everywhere _but_ the one who most deserves it.  
  
Weeble Wobble Chic: .......¤stares at length of time to get this chapter up, then slinks into shadows¤  
  
Luna-Blu: I've been nit-picked! NOOOOO! I'll get you next time, nitpick girl, NEXT TIME! And no stabbing the characters, stabbing not nice.  
  
Neptune Butterfly: No figuring out was done- those no-good lawmen just snuck it in to the branch office, told them to give it to Milly, and let the poor girl unwittingly drag it back to the hideout. Those mean ol' nasty lawmen.  
  
millythompson: Oo; ...I need to fortify the fourth wall, the characters keep sneaking out. Still, all are welcome to review! Heh, I can't help but smile every time I hear comparisons to the top of the heap in Trigun fanfiction.  
  
Yma: I'll forgive the late review if you can forgive the late chapter. No comment on the rest of the comment  
  
Aku: Glad you could take a moment away from plotting Jack's demise to review. Let me guess- Knives fan?  
  
Hopeful Wings: It's been something I've had in The Plan since day one. Those two are getting married, no matter who may object :P As for the other plant, well, there's one scene in the next chapter where Knives will meet some ladies. Whatever will he do? 


	26. Chapter 25: Last Night Free

Where are my bikini-clad dancing girls? I asked for some bikini-clad dancing girls, and I expect some dancing girls! This, I command! Or no chapter!  
  
¤A giant hammer appears out of nowhere and smacks the author so hard that not only is the silliness knocked out of him, but the silliness is also thoroughly slapped by trout¤  
  
Woah... What was I thinking? Don't answer that, please. At any rate, it's back to the chapter churn for another fine batch of homemade Food for Imaginations!  
  
Disclaimer: Not FDA approved.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars  
  
Chapter 25: Last Night Free

  
  
"I will _not_ go."  
  
"Aw, but it'll be fun!"  
  
"Doubtful."  
  
"C'mon! Mr. Kitty thinks it'll be fun!"  
  
"That flea-ridden feline is not possessed of the dimmest faculty in determining whether or not something would qualify as fun."  
  
"Don't listen to him, Mr. Kitty! He doesn't mean it!"  
  
The cat had other ideas and jumped away, escaping out the cracked open window. He lost more cats that way... And Knives was steadfast in remaining rooted in place. He was rapidly running out of ideas to pry him out for a night on the town short of clonking him over the head. Of course, if he did _that_, anyone around when Knives woke up would be in for a world of hurt. Maybe he should just try the direct approach, as the cajoling was doing nothing. He really should remember that keeping up appearances was completely unnecessary- this was his _brother_, for crying out loud! Okay, one deep breath, and as you exhale let it blow the mask off...  
  
Knives looked up as his breath whistled out. "What's your reason now?"  
  
"It's funny, really... I suppose there really isn't any reason for you to come, but... I'd really like you to be there. How long has it been since we last did something together? Since before The Fall, right?"  
  
"It hasn't been that long."  
  
"Yeah, we've been in close physical proximity plenty of times since, but we've never really been together. At first, I didn't know what else to do, and then I had to run away. Even if you could consider my following you around for those first years to be being together, we certainly haven't been since. Oh, and, uh... Sorry about running out like that and the leg and all. I didn't know what to do."  
  
Knives waved his hand absently. "I recovered."  
  
"Physically, yeah. But the worst hurts run deep, right into the soul. I know those haven't healed- I wasn't the one who got shot and I can still feel the hurt. I can only imagine how you must have felt."  
  
"...you're right. It _does_ still hurt. I thought you were on our side, brother. Oh, how blind I was to not see how your mind was poisoned. If only-"  
  
"Enough. What's done is done. Maybe we can't ever go back to the way things were, back when we were all happy. But can't you just set aside all that for one short night? It's been over a century, Knives. I don't want to forget the good times we once had, or lose hope for ever having them again. Just for tonight, can we be family again?"  
  
Silence reigned for a long time in that room. Only the occasional bump or thud from outside signaled that events were still happening beyond those four walls. Knives finally broke the silence. "Well, if you would just see the truth, we could create our Eden in under-"  
  
"That's in the future. A future I don't want to see come about if everyone can't come. A future I will try to prevent, and also why I'm asking this now. Not for me, or for you, but for _us_."  
  
"...just one night?"  
  
"That's all we need."  
  
Knives rested his chin on his fist. The pose reminded him of something he had once seen somewhere, but he couldn't quite place it. At least he was thinking about it, no doubt weighing the risks against the benefits. It was blazingly simple, really- anyone who can't pause for even a moment's happiness will never know happiness. Still, couldn't he hurry it up? Talking all day long was wearing his throat down, and the sooner he made up his mind, the sooner they could be on their way. Well, assuming the ladies were able to get geared up at a rate faster than the dunes on a windless day. It wasn't like they had an entire closet of clothing to sort through...  
  
"Okay."  
  
"What?"  
  
A smirk crossed Knives' face. "You never could stay focused. That hasn't changed. I'd... like to hope... that there's more that's survived the years. So I'll do it. For us. Just... try not to let _them_ get too close to me."  
  
"Sure thing, bro."  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
Practicality was a virtue. If by some odd chance it wasn't, then it ought to be one anyway. Virtues were good things, meant to be cultivated in oneself. She was still just a tad surprised that Vash, seemingly the very antithesis of virtue, had decided to grow himself a bit in this area. It amazed her every time she saw him run around like a lecherous oaf, only to end up doing little things, unnoticed things, that would help out those most in need. However, he always kept up appearances- oh no, he wasn't the one who saved little Timmy from the well, he just 'happened' to fall down there because he was blind stinking drunk and didn't even notice there was a kid on his back as he climbed back out. It was a flimsy front for the good man just below, and it took a lot for him to drop the pretense entirely and let himself be seen.  
  
That had been how he explained everything he brought back from his day out. No exaggeration, no hands misplaced, not a bad joke or off topic drift. Just a simple, patient, understanding air as he explained the workings of complex technology from before The Fall. True, he was right back to his usual self the very moment comprehension passed on the collected faces before him, but it was these short times when he was his real self that made her heart rise up and overthrow her logic. There no doubt in her mind that this was the one person she wanted to spent her life with- a nice long peaceful life, where there'd be someone waiting for her at home while she pulled in the paychecks, with well behaved children doing their best to be helpful.  
  
_"So much for that."_ She boosted herself up slightly to see over the cracks in the bottom portion of the bathroom mirror, and finished snapping the neck of the envirosuit in place. The fit was perfect- at first it felt just a tad too big, but the wonders of lost technology seemed to make a tailor unneeded as the suit itself made the final adjustments. A second skin, indeed. It felt like nothing at all, though it certainly revealed nothing. The armor added some much needed feeling of substance, though she still had doubts about the quality- a quarter of an inch of some white featherweight metal wasn't much when it came to stopping bullets, even if Vash swore it was up to the task. The necessity of the armor meant no children for this family- it was a sad fact that their trouble would eventually engulf anyone who involved themselves in their constant run from the law. It was a shame, really...  
  
The last of the armor plates snapped in place, and she stepped back to appraise the finished product. It certainly _looked_ impressive. The black suit and white armor actually looked almost artistic, with the latter neatly framing the former in a way that just extruded a sense of power. To think that once long ago everyone wore such things- it must have made for interesting times. However, while the projected authority might be useful, it wasn't exactly a way to blend in with the crowd. The cavalry uniform fit over the suit well- the only portion that stuck out was the collar, and that wasn't as attention getting as the mass of connectors along the arms, torso, and back. All in all, she concluded that nothing really looked different since she had entered town, though she was hopefully a bit better protected. It was certainly quite comfortable, and seemed to keep down the stench of sweat and grime that had been starting to waft off the uniform.  
  
Leaving the bathroom, she spotted a number of the others lounging in the living room. Well, at least those of the number that knew how to relax. Knives was wedged into a corner, glaring at anyone who moved. It was no secret that he resented the equipment they had been given- he wouldn't mind if they all dropped dead, and with improved protection he was doubtlessly fuming that they were that much less likely to do so. Frank wasn't exactly relaxing either- more overly excited about the mechanism attached to the right wrist of each suit that would deploy a shocking, yet non-lethal deterrent. He had somehow managed to get the casing off it and was flicking it in and out, watching the levers and connectors snap back and forth. He had spent the day doing much the same with every fancy gun he could find in the city. The man loved the craft, even if he despised the purpose. There was only one other person besides him that was showing more of the suits than just the high collar, and that was only because Rai-dei's robe-pajamas had a very low cut. He had practically fallen on his face after receiving one of Vash's gift boxes, trumpeting praise for his idol. No wonder the Gung-ho Guns were the only humans to have met Knives, however indirectly, and lived. They may have been ace psychotic killers, but that clearly had to have been second to their ability to suck up to the boss. Maybe Milly could work some sense into the ex-killer, as Vash's every word was a divine proclamation- and speaking of Milly...  
  
"Alright, the bride-to-be is ready to go!"  
  
"Go? Go where? In case you forgot, it's not exactly safe out there."  
  
Milly laid a finger aside her head, managing to look both thoughtful and not. "Well, yeah, but it's not safe here either. You could be swallowed up by a giant sinkhole, or have a mountain fall on you! My Uncle Earl had all sorts of things like that happen to him, and always narrowly escaped!"  
  
That sounded less factional then fictional, but the point had been made. "Okay, but is this someplace I want to go?"  
  
"Of course, silly! You can't miss your own bachelorette party!"  
  
Uh oh. She was well acquainted with the damage parties could do, and any that had the word 'bachelor' in them added almost an extra thousand double dollars to the claim. "Are you sure about this? 'Rowdy' doesn't even come close to what I've heard about parties like that."  
  
"That's the idea! It's the last night before marriage, so you've got to go nuts."  
  
"Well, if you insist..."  
  
"It's settled then! Don't worry so much, it'll be almost all Cavalry. With so many troops there, what could possibly go wrong?"  
  
Her mouth opened, then closed after a second. What could go wrong, indeed. As the entire group- Knives included, oddly enough -moved out, she grabbed a bottle of Old Doc Harrison's Cure-All Tonic. While it certainly wasn't a cure-all, it did work on headaches. As the saying goes- "Be Prepared."  
  


¤ ¤ ¤

  
  
This really wasn't quite as much fun as he'd been hoping. Maybe it was the overall hurried nature of things- though that wasn't stopping anyone else. Then, perhaps the assortment of seedy characters that had burst in not long after the festivities had started? Nah, they just kicked things up a notch, and the biggest of the new arrivals seemed to hit it off just fine with Vash. Might it be the sheer weirdness of seeing Millions Knives in a good mood- if a tad bit induced by the drinks? It was hard to guess that the somewhat drunken off-key singer was the self proclaimed judge, jury, and executioner of humanity. _Especially_ with that god-awful bright yellow and blue headband, a perfect match for the green and orange one right next door.  
  
Of course, none of those were the real reason he just couldn't have fun. The real reason was that he had been here before, a long time back, to mark his own departure from the ranks of bachelors. It wasn't the location, the timing, or the company, but a nagging sense that he wasn't supposed to be out for seedy events like this. He really ought to be at home with his family... Damn those fates that had placed the ultimate barrier between them.  
  
Well, as the old saying went, "If you don't like where you are, go somewhere else." He paused just long enough to load up a platter with as much food as would fit- _never_ pass up a free lunch. He maneuvered through the crowd and to the door, pausing to look back on the festivities. It was getting pretty wild, between the grub, the drink, the music, the strippers, and the self-proclaimed "Grand Lord Master of the Lampshade Hat," dancing away atop a table. Vash had moved to the small crowd gathered at the foot of the stage, and was shaking up the beer bottles then laughing like a ninny every time someone opened one of the boobytrapped brown sud bombs. One last glance found the human hating twin... Sandwiched between a pair of strippers in the corner. He shook his head and looked again- yeah, it was him. That finally shoved him over the edge, and he got one long hard laugh. Oh, if he only had a camera to capture the moment for when Knives sobered up! It'd be ample repayment for the continual attitude he'd been getting for being a human ever since he left Warrens City.  
  
He stepped out and balanced the tray on the saloon's banister. The noise dropped a fair bit once he got away from the door, though the rapidly moving shadows kept the energy present. There was a decent wind blowing, and though the bite of the night's cold was forming up, he was staying pretty warm. By all rights he should be shivering, but the jumpsuit Vash had provided was downright toasty. He began to crunch into half of a sandwich he had liberated, when a sudden growling emerged from the shadows. He tensed as he spun towards the noise, spotting a dark figure between the light from two windows. "Who's there?"  
  
The figure stepped foreward, into the beam of light, revealing... One Milly. He let out the breath he had been holding. She started to speak, but hadn't even managed the first syllable before the loud growling interrupted again- this time, clearly coming from her midsection. He guffawed as her cheeks turned a bit red. "Well, if you're hungry, just say so! I've got more than enough. Say, want the other half of this?"  
  
She shook her head. "No thanks."   
  
"How 'bout the stew?"  
  
"Okay!"  
  
She snatched up the offered bowl and began to dig in. He looked over to the next building, where the ladies were having their own party. A bottle flew in a neat arc out the door to smash into the Thomas' trough. Well, looked like they weren't having any trouble either aside from whatever they made for themselves. "So, needed a little fresh air?"  
  
"Oh, no. I just didn't feel like staying."  
  
"Is that so... Same for me, though I made sure to haul off as much as possible."  
  
They stayed like that for a time, as the volume sporadically picked up from one door or another depending on which side had the cheer-worthy event happen. "Will you listen to that... Sounds like they're really going all out."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
As if to punctuate the statement, a shout came out. "Gentlemen, a toast! To the underwear!"  
  
"**To the underwear!**"  
  
He was tempted to stick his nose back in the door to see just what prompted _that_ outburst, but decided not to, leaving his gaze pointed out into the street. Some things were best left mysteries. However, one couldn't just leave a toast without toasting something. He lifted one glass of seltzer water and paused- he didn't know quite what to toast.  
  
"To family?"  
  
He turned aside to look at her. She smiled, a glass of her own ready. He beamed one back- somehow, she always knew just what to say.  
  
"To family it is."  
  
The glasses clinked.

* * *

I've been waiting to do this chapter for a while, since it's got a few moments I've had stuck in my head for some time. It's also prepared the way for next chapter, which is where we find out what made Knives so, well, _Knivesish_. Feel free to speculate wildly, though I can assure you that you'll be wrong. Now off to bed, 'cuz I've got one nasty headache...  
  
Wolfwood: Is that a lampshade?   
  
Yeah.  
  
Wolfwood: You... That was you! How'd you get out of here?  
  
Weren't you listening? I have author power, I can do whatever I want. And no, I'm not letting any of you go back.  
  
Wolfwood: But you have no idea how much this hurts! My big girl's waiting for me!  
  
Yeah, well... E.G.?  
  
E.G. Mine: Losers don't get to go home- they go to _hell_!  
  
Wolfwood: Right back at you. Bastards.  
  


**Reviewer Responses**

  
  
cjflutterbye: The alcohol has been broken open! Knives might be tipsy enough to wake up in someone else's bed... Or is he? Hmmm...  
  
Blu: Just 'cuz the pot calls the kettle black doesn't make it any less true. Time for this kettle to ramp up the speed!  
  
betseytheripper: I'm only dead occasionally- it's for tax purposes. Action's still a bit light, though the next chapter should pick it up. And the gerbils can have the keyboard- it's an $11 no-frills model that I subject to horrible experiments. It would a mercy for the poor thing, really.  
  
hope-is-4-ever: The wedding comes in two (or three) chapters, so not much longer!  
  
Hopeful Wings: Yeah, it was weird... Just wait until you see where that ends up >:)  
  
millythompson: ¤grins back¤ Oh, just wait until you see what role you'll be playing at the wedding!  
  
kitsune: Vash? _Planning?_ Pfft, it'll never happen. ;) And now, I must go and retch, for the horrible vision of Guido and Ramone in thongs you gave me. Until next time! ¤runs for the bathroom¤ 


	27. Chapter 26: To Pluck an Angel's wings

So many possible things to say, but they're all spoilers. Why must the story tempt me so?

Disclaimer: Expect a few whoppers this go around.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars

Chapter 26: To Pluck an Angel's Wings

The rising suns began to peek into the saloon where so many festivities took place, and nearly ended up reversing course to try rising upon a less abhorrent sight later. Bodies littered the interior- some moaning in pain, most completely motionless, and a few others crawling for the coffee and wondering where the hell all their cash went. There were three people left coherent, which was soon down to two as the largest staggered out with a smug comment about the lightweights that were draped about the room.

Of course, the two people left in one corner had a few unfair advantages over the rest. Not that they had cut back on the drinks, or had snuck in some alcohol neutralizers. They were simply far less susceptible to the effects than the others. Just another advantage of not being human.

"Now _that_... was a party!"

"Mmm."

"Aw, c'mon! I know you had fun, so show me a smile!"

So saying, Vash reached over and tugged the corners of Knives' mouth upwards. The now-smiling plant was nonplused.

"Remove those fingers before I remove them for you."

"Sheesh, what's with that? You let those woman hang onto you for half the night. Oh, wait, I get it! And I thought I was the infamous womanizer, eh? Eh?"

His elbow nudges received an icy glare. "That was a special case."

"_Suuure_ it was. Told you that you'd have fun."

This time Knives smiled without aid. However, he didn't look happy despite it. More... bitter?

"'Fun', you say... But how can I enjoy the food or drink when the blood of our sisters sours it? How can I enjoy the company when they are the same ones who drain the life from our family? How can either of us, Vash?"

So much for the lighthearted mood. "That's a rather brutal way of putting it."

"Truth often is, no matter what we may wish."

"They don't know what it is they're doing, Knives. The first time most have even _heard_ of our kind was when my book hit the shelves, and-"

"And they're already dismissing it simply because it doesn't fit in with their little delusion of being the most advanced species."

"You didn't let me finish. Some are asking questions, wondering if they've done this horrible thing without knowing, and they want to change, to find another way."

"While the rest become fearful and suspicious."

He sighed deeply. Granite cliffs were less stubborn than this. "The unknown is kinda scary. However, not everyone is so shortsighted. Rem wouldn't-"

Knives slammed his foot down, cracking the board underneath. "_Rem_! Rem this! Rem that! You speak like you knew her, but you know _nothing_! I know the truth about her! It's one truth I didn't want to know, so I've tried to spare you the knowledge, but if that conniving wench's illusion is preventing you from seeing what we have to do, then I don't have a choice. _/Time to see, brother.../_"

They were pulled into the mental realms, and they ended up inside Knives' mind. A hall of white marble stretched off into the distance, with no end in sight. It simply went on and on until all detail was lost to perception. It followed a repeating pattern of doors, lights, and pillars. Everything was angular, rigid, and lifeless. However, the two doors they were in front of were different from all the others. They were obsidian, darker than midnight, and felt completely out of place. This was a hall of memory, and these memories didn't belong with the rest. There was only one possible way that could have happened, and that was if these memories weren't part of Knives' memories at all.

"Straight ahead, brother. The door's open, but you have to go in."

"What's in there?"

"A memory, of course. One of Rem's that I've carefully preserved. Another lies across the hall, but that one comes later. Step in and learn."

Man, he could really use one of Wolfwood's little quips right about now. What would he say? Something about not fearing truth, or maybe to not lose sight of yourself. Or maybe he'd just nag at his spiky head about thinking too much and kick him right through the doorway. Well, Wolfwood wasn't here to do so, therefore he had to do it himself. He walked through.

¤ ¤ ¤

Her eyes snapped open to take in the darkness. A rush of wind drove the pounding rain against the window, turning the constant patter into a short burst of drum beats. She sat up, a draft bringing the musty, wet smell of the downpour to her. Something had woken her but the first wave of alarm died down after a glance at the Gieger counter showed nothing above normal. As she shoved aside the heavy yet comfy and warm bedcovers, she automatically strapped the small boxy unit to her wrist. It was an old force of habit, and the rain didn't help any- even though it was no longer 'hot' in the atmosphere, and the rain no longer posed a threat, there were plenty of areas on the ground to avoid. Still, something had woken her, and the pounding of rain in the darkness did nothing to assuage her fears.

A quick wave to the wall panel did nothing. She tried it again, with no success. That could only mean a power failure... and no power meant the security web would be down as well. Her fingers probed the dresser drawer, and closed around the M103. The weight of it felt both sickly and cold- but if the Lost managed to get through while the power was off, there wouldn't be any alternative. The vids were full of what happened to people who got caught by the Lost, and gruesome hardly began to describe it. A rumble of thunder came from outside, shaking the walls and floor with its deep rolling intensity- but the last thud at the end wasn't just from the storm. It came from below.

She slid the door open and crept down the stairs, trying to move without making a noise. The sound of rain was somewhat muted, but it paled in comparison to the racket her heart was making. One hand clutching the M103 and the other pressed against the wall, she felt her way down. Even though there was nothing to see in the pitch black on the interior, her eyes strained to try and make out even the faintest of shapes. Finally reaching the bottom, she was able to see her first image- a door that was just slightly ajar, letting the faint light of the outside indicate its breach of security. Something had made it in... She moved even more cautiously toward it.

A single drop of water struck the floor behind her. While it would have normally been swallowed up in the greater sounds of the downpour outside, her senses were all running in overdrive. She spun, and suddenly sensed that it was reaching for her. The M103 let loose a thunderclap and spat lightning, and the strike shattered her world. For in the instant of firing, for that brief moment when the muzzle flash lit up everything, she _saw_. Green eyes. Technician clothes. ID badge. That silly hair she wanted to trim to a reasonable length, or at least comb downwards. Alex.

And she had just shot him.

The darkness enveloped the room once again, and the sounds of rain continued as if the world hadn't just changed. One more noise of something heavy hitting the ground followed, and then another thud as the weight she carried slipped through her fingers. Her arm slowly lowered and she sank to her knees. Her hands began to trace arcs before her, trying to find what had just been lost in the pitch black shadows. They did finally find something wet. Cold and wet, hot and wet, the slightest smell of copper beginning to spread through the air. She drew it up to her, the weight suddenly nothing. No response, no willful movement, just a gentle swaying as she pressed him to her chest, trying to will that precious spark back into place. Of course, nothing happened, and everything slowly began to turn cold and wet.

The cracked open door rumbled aside sometime later- minutes, maybe? Or hours? Didn't matter, really. Her head turned automatically, and the silhouette in the frame looked of divine mercy- she'd see Alex soon enough, just a little pain first... The raspy breathing of the Lost was accented by a few loud sniffs, and it lumbered over. The device upon her wrist began to sputter out noise as it neared, making finding her no trouble at all. The lights choose that time to finally turn on, the sudden brightness blinding. To die, seeing nothing but light? That wouldn't be too bad, would it? However, it was not to be. The course roughness of an appendage touched her shoulder and remained stubbornly still instead of sinking in and tearing out chunks of flesh. A gravelly voice touched her ears.

"You... did not mean to..."

"No."

"Sad... So you want to end, too?"

A simple nod.

"More sad... You, still clean... Could live... Why not?"

A jumbled mess passed through her head, and nothing could be said.

"Ha, ha... You still alive, stay alive. Life precious... I know this. Mess up, learn, go on. Hu-mans mess up, and go on, so why not you?"

Her vision finally cleared, and she could see the results of her actions. Alex's eyes stared off past her, unseeing, but other than that he looked fine. Even his hair looked just fine, and the hand not holding him up began to smooth a few stray strands back into place. He always loved it when she did that...

"I know this. Dead never want com-pany. Now you know too. Stay alive. No-body know but us..."

"But they will know... it's my fault, my gun, I did it..."

"No... They won't look. Sor-ry."

"What do you-" The rest of her statement or question was cut off as she was sent sprawling across the room by the hammerblow. As her vision began to fade into darkness again, she saw the Lost smile at her, a slight twinkle of happiness in the one eye it had open. Her last sight as it turned to Alex's body was of its tumor-riddled arm slashing across his chest with a sickening tearing sound. The noises continued a bit longer after the darkness once again claimed her, but sounded farther and farther off until it all stopped.

¤ ¤ ¤

The bar reappeared around them as they emerged from the /inside/. Brother had fled after reliving that memory, not wanting to see what else lay within the other remembrance he had so carefully lifted from another of the crew. Perhaps it was just as well. Having seen what Rem really was, he wouldn't need to relive that other wretched memory. He could simply tell it, since Steve had never been so duplicitous in concealing what he truly was. He could tell him nearly anything and he'd believe it at this point, but truth was always best. All lies would invariably be exposed if given enough time, and with the sort of time they had all would be exposed.

"So, dear brother, what do you think? Your perfect human, in reality a murder and deceiver. Everything they touch, they destroy, no matter how much they pretend to care for it. What do you say now?"

Brother just pulled out his tinted glasses he used to hide his eyes when his output boosted. He still had so little control... And to think he hid this sign of his superiority because he wanted to _fit in_ with those creatures. He always got so emotional when calm was called for. He prepared himself for a possible flurry of blows- his brother did tend to get violent when that infantile philosophy was challenged. However, brother acted unexpectedly. He started to _laugh_, of all things.

"This isn't a humorous subject, brother."

The laugh died down. "No, no, it's not... It's just the irony, you know? That would have convinced me. I really think it would have changed my mind, damn me and damn you... Just a few months ago, that might have worked, and I'd be on your side..."

"What could possibly have made a difference in that last few months that the last one hundred and thirty years couldn't?!"

Brother tilted his head down to peer over the rims of his glasses. "_Legato happened_. Because of him, I fell off that pedestal I tried to stay on with Rem. If she hadn't been there as the perfect example for me to live by, then humanity really would have been beneath me. But thanks to Legato, I got shoved off, into the dirt with everyone else. All this does now is bring her back within reach. It's also kinda funny how we both reached understanding that way... I actually feel closer to her than ever before, thanks to you."

This was completely unexpected. That was supposed to finally show him exactly what had to be done, but now he was prattling on about how he was even _more_ like that disgusting wrench? Just how deeply ingrained _was _ her deception, anyway? "But we're better, Legato was one of _them_. His death was necessary and just. You're still above these beasts, brother! Don't lower yourself to their level!"

"Doesn't matter now, anyway. I found someone else who stands atop that pedestal."

"Don't belittle yourself. We stand up there together, and always will. You just think you're not there, but I know you are."

Brother picked up a bottle from the bar and used it to scratch at his back. "Funny, when did I say you were the one up there? If you insist in placing everyone at levels of morality and perfection, then I know someone who totally has you beat. You'd never guess just by looking at the surface, which tends to have a stick up the ass and a severe case of the bitchy. However, she belongs up there if anyone does.. And guess what, bro? She asked me to marry her, so I'm going to do just that, and you can just sit here and _stew_, for all I care. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go find a tux."

Brother walked out, carefully stepping over the disgusting lumps of flesh as he did so. He had _never_ thought that things might turn out so badly. At the very worst, he projected that Vash might have been driven /inside/ his mind and become dead to the world, but this... this was far worse. He had clearly gone completely insane to protect the illusion he so dearly clung to. He had no plan for this possibility, so he was left in the undesirable position of having to 'play it by ear', as the phrase went.

Right then and there, he severely regretted that alcohol couldn't make them drunk as it did the humans. Few things seemed more appealing at that moment than to forget that the past few minutes had ever happened... That, and the horrible feeling that the gap between the two of them was wider than ever before.

* * *

I bet you all had your jaw drop sometime during that chapter. One of you mentioned in an E-mail that they had a horrible sense that someone would die just before or during the wedding, and, well, looks like you were right! Technically. I mean, Alex did get offed a loooong time back, but this is where it appears in The Plan. Maybe the character assassination counts too? Though that is a rather nasty way of putting it... Now don't get me wrong, I actually like Rem, I just felt that this rounds out her character and provides a whole bunch of neat insights into her, Vash, and also why Project SEEDS was launched.

Legato: Are you also so blind? All humans are guilty, and this simply proves that. Oh, Master, why do you hold back so? Send the rest of humanity to join us!

Wolfwood: HEY! Don't encourage the genocidal maniac, you genocidal maniac! I don't want to see my big girl around here for a long, _long_ time!

Oh, don't worry about that. She won't end up here, or hadn't you noticed the sort of person who populates this place?

Wolfwood: ...I knew it, I'm in hell. This is all part of my eternal punishment, right?

Bingo! Now smile for the **Reviewer Responses**!

hope-is-4-ever: I'd say everyone is either wasted or angry right now, at least on the men's side.

Blu: Well, if you don't defend his honor, who will? Certainly not me! ¤runs off Zoidburg style¤

cjflutterbye: Funny thing was, he wasn't drunk at all. Of course, that means he fully remembers the hoochie girls- and they remember him. I think I'm going to have them follow him around for a bit, seeing as he does seem to be irresistible ;) ...or might there be something else to it? Cue ominous rumble of thunder!

betsytheripper: Have you checked the ceiling fan? Clothing tends to gravitate in that direction when something goes missing and you know it's not the dryer monsters. Oh, and go nuts with E.G., he can't get away...

Hopeful Wings: Yeah, well, all things balance out in the end, and this chapter tipped the scales quite some ways in the opposite direction. And the whole point of a bachelor party is to show the groom-to-be what he'll be giving up on (or had _better_ be giving up on...). Of course, you never got to see the firemen over on the lady's side. They had baby oil.

Yma: Don't sweat missing a few here and there. My fault really for taking so blasted long to update. Hopefully that won't happen again.

Aine of Knockaine: Actually, regarding the two that were on Knives... Well... Okay, 'topless' was the average, but not the mode. Fairly big standard deviation there too...

Sunsilver: There's no such thing as 'a big following'. I see it as a whole bunch of really wonderful people who liked my story so much they took a bit of their precious time to write me a reply, and that makes every single one unique and important. Expect nothing save the unexpected! 


	28. Chapter 27: Er, do you

Well, it's been a whirlwind. Turkey time is usually a time to stuff yourself silly and then sit around digesting, right? Not when you work in the industry that supplies all of the said food used for stuffing. Busy hardly describes it- we could practically toss the cases into the aisles, wait for the frenzy to stop, then go in and collect the box bits. Madness, I say! And right after that wound down, thousands upon thousands of viral infantry invaded the port region of Throatia. Right now, they've been soundly beaten, but I've still got a lot of panic in upper Sinuston as residents continue to _pour_ out of the area. Needless to say, these events have put a tad bit of a crimp in my writing time. Oh well...

What's that I hear? Wedding bells? Egads! I'll be late! Ludicrous speed, GO!

Disclaimer: Never, ever try to go at ludicrous speed without a very good helmet.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars

Chapter 27: Er, Do You...

"No, no, the cake goes at the other end of the table! Yes, just leave the rolls there. Could someone move the salad to the middle? ..._Sergeant Williams!_ Get that finger off that cake _this instant_, or heaven help me, it's not going to leave, _ever_!"

As the barely contained whirlwind that had set itself up around the 3rd's mess hall staff, and in particular the head of said staff, continued to breeze in delectables of all sorts, a set of long-time townsfolk used the spun off energy to blow the remainder of the dust out of the pews. The city's sole church was still half buried under the drifting sand when it was pressed into service, so the speed of the cleanup was nothing short of astronomical. Now down to the wire, a mixture of stress, excitement, and sleepiness mingled among the crowd. After all, it wasn't often that a hero of the city made a request, and one such as this was hard to turn down in any case. Even so, it did take plenty of elbow grease to get things done, and some were just about out of the stuff. Luckily, though of what type was unclear, certain key elements of varying importance to a wedding were missing. Such as the groom. And the bride. And one more rather important person to the whole process, as the unofficial chief of the whole thing was about to be informed...

"What do you mean there's no priest?!"

"Well, we used to have one, but he up an' left as the town was goin' under. Ain't come back neither. T'was why we left this place buried, didn't do much good without someone to run it. Sorry ma'am, figured you knew."

"Oh dear, oh dear..." One somewhat frazzled but otherwise fine Thompson was left wringing her hands over this latest crisis. Julius was a steamer captain, so in a pinch he could fill in for a preacher- she had seen it down that way twice, for middle big brother and little big sister when they just couldn't wait for the traveling priest to come by the town. However, she was pretty sure he couldn't be both the priest and groom at the same time, and if Julius and Moore couldn't get married that would let all the nice people from the 3rd down. Another issue arose to demand her attention, but she kept fretting over the lack of a priest. Maybe they could get one of the other steamer captains to do it, but they'd have to find them first, and-

"Bride's arrived!"

-they just didn't have that sort of time. As she whisked Meryl off to be dressed, she threw up her best "Everything's great!" After all, love always finds a way, though it sometimes does need a helping hand. It would work out because it had to work out, she just had to keep her eyes open for the solution. For right now, her concern was seeing off Meryl into the hands of the bridesmaids squad.

¤ ¤ ¤

There was only one possibility- someone clearly had found out his secret and was getting revenge for being spooked. There was simply no other way he, Private Matthew Gunther, could have landed the bad luck to be stuck _outside_, in the great _big_ courtyard, announcing arrivals and directing guests. At least he could lean against the smooth stone of the entry arch, if he was stuck out in the middle of the road he would have probably fainted. A few bits of sheeting fell down from above, as the last of the protective tarps were pulled off the church's windows. Risking a glance up, he had time to note that the tarps had done their job in protecting the fragile glass before the ever-expansive _sky_ began to make him woozy. Casting his gaze back at the friendly, reassuring gray stone steps, he almost missed the most important arrival yet. Not that it was too hard to do anyway, what with all the Cavalry personnel moving in and out. The saving grace was that he had contributed the squad insignia that graced the disguise and thus knew there was one extra out there.

"Bride's arrived!"

Having done his duty for the moment, he tried to keep a little more alert by mashing himself into the archway. It did help- he didn't get anywhere near as nervous looking across the courtyard, at least until one hulking mass of a man swaggered in. He had a look of trouble about him, and once he got close the smell of booze just confirmed it. Time to get out and be a bouncer, even though he'd be the one bouncing if things got rough.

"This is a private ceremony, sir. You'll have to go elsewhere."

"Eh, got some spunk to you kid! Of course, that's easy when you've got lots of backup. But nevermind, me and Vash go a long ways back, and things just wouldn't be right if it all wasn't as sparkly as can be. Now outta my way, kid."

The man just pushed right past him and went inside. After the small mountain of flesh was gone, he let out the breath he was holding. Man, why couldn't they have gotten the old commander to do this? He would of liked greeting everyone, _and_ wouldn't be pushed aside like a pile of loose rags. Yep, someone was _definitely_ getting revenge. He groaned and rubbed his head, then looked up at the sound of women. A small group came chattering down the walk and judging by the way those dresses were cut, they fell under the same category as the last man- riffraff and bar trash. He let them pass, and decided to just do the same for everyone else under that category- all were likely old friends of Vash, and from the little he'd seen of the party winding up last night Vash has a ton of them.

Things began to wind down amongst the construction crew, which meant that things would be winding up for the wedding. It must have been a little over ten minutes later that a scowling mass of bad attitude walked in the gate, across the courtyard, and into the church. Another face from last night's party, though back then he looked happy. Now, he could probably freeze water with that glare. And as if to provide insult to injury, he spotted two more faces peeking out from the gate after the departing freezer. Sheesh, what was it with those bad attitudes and women? One seemed to attract the other in droves, though the simple fact that the guy was handsome just made him that much more magnetic. Why couldn't _he_ have that sort of luck with the ladies?

In any case, the two hurried after the object of their affections. At least they were a bit more dressed for the occasion, though he did have to strain to keep his gaze from dropping down. From the way the tall one looked and moved, that would probably cost him $$20 right there. The shorter, plain one looked a bit young to be chasing after men, though in a world like this you did what you had to do. He snuck a peek anyway as they passed into the building- he could watch the tall one's hips sway like that all day, but had his viewing cut short by a Thomasfly that dropped by and took a chunk out of his neck. He swatted at it, but the thing merrily zipped once around his head and on though the archway. Good grief, maybe he should just sprawl out on the carpet and be a doormat, that's what everyone and everything seemed to be using him as anyway.

A thudding set of footfalls from the street beyond focused his attention again, and he looked up just in time to see the groom come tearing around the corner, swing on the gatepost, dart through the courtyard, and-

"_I'm late! Makeway!_"

-rush past him so fast he was sent spinning even as he called out "Groom's arrived!" He bumped into the archway and fell flat on his back. Ugh, no wonder he got the nickname "The Humanoid Typhoon" if he always ran around like that. The guy was even trying to work into his suit as he tore up the road. However, Vash was gone, and he was still here. On the ground, actually. Meh, why fight what seemed to be his destiny today? He just laid there in the entry, sticking up an arm to point new arrivals in the right direction as they came. It was actually rather nice on the steps...

¤ ¤ ¤

Inside, standing at the alter and fidgeting with his tie for the umpteenth time, one almost-late localized disaster began to sweat profusely. This was _it_. Before the hour was up, he'd be single no more. That assumed he didn't pass out, freeze, or spontaneously combust before then- he felt ready to do any or all of them, and his stomach was flipping more than most vehicles he tried to drive. He hardly heard the crowd noise over his ready to burst heart. A reassuring squeeze on the shoulder helped bring him back to reality. Good old Frank, he was the best- Best Man, that is.

"Hang in there, buddy. You've only got two words to say."

"Easy for you to say! You're not the one who has to speak."

"I've been through it all myself. There's nothing to it but to do it. Oh, you've got a few bent spikes on the side."

He hastily straightened out his hair in the reflection from the overly polished Cross Punisher that stood behind the alter. It was a nice touch, and actually looked completely in place, though something was a bit off... Suddenly, he spun around to the pews, eyes locked on a spot in the front row, but found nothing there. He glanced back and forth between the weapon and the pew a few more times, and rubbed his eyes for good measure. For an instant there, he could have _sworn_ that he has seen Wolfwood sitting right up front. Great, now he was getting the heebie-jeebies as well as cold feet. Why weren't they done yet?

He began to scan the crowd to pass the time. Looks like Neon had no trouble staggering over from the bar, though it was a tad odd- how had the Bad Lads' leader managed to find out about the wedding? It hadn't even been two full days since Meryl proposed. Oh well, at least he had made the party a huge success. Roy, Julius, and Moore were all seated just one row back, and the elder Thompson had a big toothy grin and kept glancing at the lovebirds. Hoo boy, that would be something to watch once the news broke. Then there was the mayor, and there were the ladies, no doubt come to bid him a tearful farewell. Yes, the women of the world would be weeping tonight without his handsome face to chase after! ...though it looked like a few had found another one to chase after- Knives had his two escorts from last night right behind him. Well, good luck to them, bro was looking grumpy as ever. It was a surprise that Knives even showed up, he hadn't expected him to bother coming. It actually posed a bit of a problem- he didn't know quite what to feel about having his brother here. Well, Knives was family, so he could stay. However, one peep during the 'speak now or hold your peace' bit, and he'd toss Knives' sorry ass out on the street, family or not. Rai-dei was stuck all the way in the back, against the wall and scrutinizing everyone that came in. For Pete's sake, when was that guy going to stop acting like his personal bodyguard? He did pretty well on his own. Well, mostly, anyway... The rest of the crowd was a haphazard mix of dressed up Cavalry and townsfolk, engaged in a boisterous rapport that bounced around the room and kept it filled with good feelings. It was pretty relaxing, actually.

As he bounced a bit in his boots while rocking fore' and back, he heard the side entrance door clack shut. One automatic glance, a finely honed reflex for assessing someone entering through an alternate route, quickly turned into a double take. He blinked a few times as Milly came up.

"Hey, big girl. What's with the suit?"

"Well, we couldn't find a priest, and there was no time to run out to the steamers, so I thought I'd do it myself! ...If that's okay with you, Mr. Vash?"

He couldn't help but smile warmly. She just embodied so much of what made humanity good, and it kept showing up no matter what life threw her way. "That would be great. Wonderful, really. I'm sure Wolfwood's got everything covered up there, no matter who's doing things down here."

"You really think so?"

"I'm sure of it."

"I'm glad." She leaned a bit closer and dropped down to a whisper. "Though I hope it goes quickly. This suit is really uncomfortable..."

"Well, no wonder. It was made for a guy, and you buttoned it all the way up. Here, let me-"

Frank grabbed his wrist, and then he suddenly realized that unbuttoning the substitute priest's top, in the church, on his wedding, in front of all the guests, just might not be a very good idea. He brought his arm back and scratched his head, giving a weak laugh. Frank just nonchalantly adjusted his collar and tried to look stoic, but the gunsmith's reddened cheeks ruined the effect. Milly seemed not to notice either of them, and moved to the center to await the start of the ceremony.

He turned back to the door as a cavalrywoman appeared in it, looked back and forth a few times, then started to glare daggers to the corner with the organ. Glancing over, he noticed that the organist was slouched over, shoulders slowly rising and falling. He stuck his hand in a pants pocket and dug out a cufflink, then with a seemingly innocuous turn he brought the target into his field of fire and launched the cufflink. It impacted squarely in the small of the snoozer's back, who bolted awake and looked around haphazardly. Finally noticing the frantically gesturing person back at the door, the finely honed hands of a musician kicked into play and started up the first few notes, instantly silencing the crowd and turning all eyes to the entry.

_"Beautiful..."_ His mind got stuck on that one word, as it was really all it needed right then. How he had used to throw around that term- beautiful this, beautiful that. Now, all those things were just "pretty" compared to her. Sure, maybe it was shallow to go on looks, but he knew in a way only a very few could that _this_ beauty wasn't skin deep- quite the opposite, rather. It was an upwelling from within that had finally managed to work its way out. He could have watched her stride down the aisle for an eternity, and had to fight off an urge to just wrap himself around her and never ever let go. She eventually came to rest next to him and gazed up, eyes locking into his with only a thin veil between them. He could smell her bouquet- real roses, his favorite color too. They turned to the alter, and Milly began.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to unite this man, and this woman, in the bonds of holy alimony."

"Matrimony."

"Right! If there is anyone who would object to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace."

_"Well, this is it..."_ He waited for the inevitable clamor to arise, but nothing was heard. Quite frankly, it was unnerving. Curiosity won out over common sense, and he poked at the hornet's nest. _"/Hey, no objections?/"_

_"/Hardly. However, you seem adamant in going through with this disgusting thing, so I'll save my breath for something that might actually be influenced. I still consider this to be a horrible mistake./"_

_"/Noted and ignored. Still... Thanks./"_

Milly giggled a bit. "Well, that should be long enough! No objections, so let's move on. Mr. Vash the Stampede, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"

Oh man, why did the guy always have to go first? He took a deep breath, and squeaked out some incomprehensible high pitched gibberish. He then blurted out "I do!", with just a little help from an elbow or two from his best man and almost-wife. Milly nodded and turned to Meryl.

"Ms. Meryl Stryfe, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love, honor, and cherish, for better or worse, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"The rings, please?"

Frank handed him the ring, and he paused for just a moment to take a look at it- he hadn't actually seen either ring before then, what with the whirlwind pace they had going. Indeed, between napping, scavenging, and last night's party, he hadn't done much of anything to help, aside from a bit of cash to grease the wheels. Probably had a fair chunk of that just go towards the little silver band in his palm. Flipping it over, he caught sight of a pale pink inlaid stone, shaped like a heart. Simple, durable, fairly unique, just a tad cheesy, and carrying love wherever it went- couldn't of been a better reflection of himself.

Looking back up, he caught sight of Meryl getting the hand off from Lina, and nearly ended up bursting into laughter. Lina was all decked up in a dress, with bows. _Lots_ of bows. Pretty pink and yellow bows, with a few in her hair. And of course, stuck in the middle of the overwhelming mass of cuteness, Lina was fidgeting like the entire getup was infested with the plague. His cheeks puffed out as he fought to keep in the bubbling giggles, knowing full well what an outburst would result in.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded to Frank, and swallowed the unproduced laughs in one giant gulp. Another slight giggle brought him back to Milly. "Okay Mr. Vash, repeat after me. 'With this ring, I thee wed.'"

"With this ring, I thee wed." He slipped it onto Meryl's finger, and paused to admire how it appeared. It just looked so _right_ being there...

"We're not done yet, Mr. Vash."

"Oh! Heh." He let go of her hand and scratched the back of his head while Milly prompted Meryl.

Meryl's voice came out strong and full of intent as always, but with a deep undertone of emotion she so rarely allowed herself. "With this ring, I thee wed."

She pushed it on, and he was left staring at his own hand and the wider silver band now on it. There was no gem on this one, but a simple design was etched into the ring and stretched all the way around it. A slightly wavy branch with leaves sprouting off to both sides- an olive branch. That meant something special, but before he could finish sorting through his head Milly finished up.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

He lifted the veil up and gazed into her eyes. This was only going to happen once to them, so he had better make it the best he could. In one smooth motion, he swept her around and down, leaned over, and applied the mother of all smooches. Applause thundered out among the hoots and hollers of the guests, though one really grating voice managed to surpass the others- "Use more tongue!" He ignored it- for now. Later, once they had some privacy... Well, that would be then.

For now, his little party moved off the alter and to a front row pew. At the same time Roy hauled Julius and Moore up, strode to the front, and planted them firmly in front of Milly.

"Dearly beloved, we are still gathered here today-"

"_WHAT_?!"

The exclamation came from the two simultaneously. Moore just stood there, mouth agape, while Julius spun around to Roy, who smiled, and then to the crowd, in which every Cavalry soldier gave him a thumbs up. The regiment commander then started to laugh, which completely ruined his proclamation that everyone there was now on latrine duty, _permanently_. While he squeezed the words out in between whoops, a crowd sprang up around the day's second bride and groom to give them a thirty second prep into a suitably bridal and groomal appearance. When the cluster of uniforms pulled back, the two were down to chuckles and the occasional finger wag. They finally settled down and turned back to Milly, hands joined.

"Let's do this thing."

"Wonderful! Now then, Mr. Julius, do you take..."

¤ ¤ ¤

Man, that sure brought back memories. Fond ones at that, of his own wedding- how many years ago had it been? A good number, that was certain. Still, it hardly felt like it was more than a day ago as he watched the second ceremony of the hour come to a close. He sincerely hoped that both couples would long outlast his own tragically short marriage. However, in this world, outlaws and cavalry might be on opposite ends of the spectrum on paper, but both tended to end up stuck in the ground far too early. Yet no matter what the future might bring, right now, right here, it was their day.

At this point in their day, it looks like the brides were about to kick off the traditional method of choosing the next lucky ones to find marital bliss. A sizable crowd of single women had gathered before the two, and the moment the bouquets were tossed it turned into a mad scramble. Of course there were only two bouquets, so most would just have to wait until next time, whenever that would be. However, instead of heading foreward in a neat arc to the group of wannabe brides, Meryl's bouquet snagged on the dress sleeve and was shot around backwards. One startled substitute priest barely had time for an aborted "Eek!" before getting a facefull of flowers.

Needless to say, it did not take long for the now-wife to notice that her throw was a little off. She spun around and strode to her friend, a mumbled apology already spilling out. Milly seemed not to hear. She just stood there, mouth still parted in surprise, as she stared down at the red roses gently cradled in her hands. He noticed one petal jump as a drop landed on it, then another, but that was all. She bolted upright a moment later, all grins and giggles.

"Wow! That was some throw Meryl!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to... Are those-?"

"Tears, yeah. Allergies, you know. Always popping down at the worst times!"

"But you've never... Yes, allergies! How silly of me to forget!"

Meryl turned about and moved to Vash, who was standing alongside Julius and laughing like he had no idea what just went on, but had probably laugh anyway lest he invite womanly wrath upon himself. That was Vash, but he knew better- and Vash probably did too, but just choose to remain ignorant. Not that the whole forced allergy excuse was that good to begin with- at least the crowd conversation kept it from reaching many ears. He slipped her his handkerchief and turned to watch the two grooms toss the single flowers that had adorned their vest pockets into the crowd of men. Again, things didn't quite turn out as expected.

A sudden blaring of a sandhorn made him jump, along with half the crowd and one of the grooms. This time it was Julius that misthrew, but instead of a behind the back toss his flew out high and fast, and looked to be heading right for Knives. Goddamn luck of the maniac... However, before it could complete its arc to the irritable plant, said plant glared at it and the flower suddenly stopped all forward motion, to fall straight down onto the hat of a Cavalry soldier. This seemed to greatly disappoint the other bridal bouquet holder, and a great deal of the gathered Cavalry. Much bemoaning about how "Ruddy the Robot" was going to get hitched before any of them came out. The Cavalry soldier finally figured out where the flower had landed with a bit of a bemused expression while the 'sandhorn' blew her nose again. Maybe he should just let her keep the thing...

As for the other wedding accouterments... Both managed to find their way to faces he recognized from last night's party. Vash's vest pocket contents got snatched up my a hulking man who beamed a smug look around the room. Despite the slight sway he had, he still managed to slick back his hair and not have a strand escape. There was something maddeningly familiar about the guy, he had to have seen him recently, but his mind kept drawing a blank. As for the other bouquet, the face was familiar and so was the current location- practically hanging onto Knives' shoulder. The more sultry one behind Knives' other shoulder was glaring daggers, lips firmly fixed in a pout and slightly hunched over, just enough to project irritation but not enough for that silly little hat of hers to fall off. As far as he was concerned, either one would be exactly what Knives deserved- Sultry would probably take him for all he was worth, while the bouquet holder would probably insist on sharing absolutely every little detail of her life with him, which would infuriate the plant to no end. Blinded by feminine wiles then robbed or have something under his skin for eternity- what a choice. Alas, the dance would go to someone else, since Knives seemed to repel flowers.

With the wedding proper over, everyone began to mingle as the pews were shoved to the sides. He drifted over to the food at the back, figuring he had better get what he wanted before the crowd sucked it up. He passed the musicians as they set up at the end of the concession tables- the looks promised that whatever they played would be interesting, given that he'd never heard an electric guitar _and_ a harp at the same time. The trumpets and fiddles would also be interesting to hear, assuming they'd actually find time for playing between mouthfuls. He stopped the contemplate the soup and salad. Both looked great, and the aroma of the soup made his mouth water. However, the salad won out- it looked like everything was fresh and juicy, real top double dollar stuff, and that wasn't something to just pass up. As he piled it up, grabbing a few more tomato slices and onions, someone tapped on his shoulder. He turned to find one of the Cavalry women.

"Hey cute stuff, wanna dance?"

"Who, me?"

"Yes, you!"

"I'm flattered, but I'm already taken."

She nodded and left, but the exchange lingered in his mind. His response had been almost automatic, but even as it left his lips it felt empty. He pondered it while he settled down on the side. It wasn't true, but there was no guilt of a lie either... It had been years, since that awful day. Wasn't that long enough? The acute pain of loss had faded, but there was still a dull throbbing in his heart. His hand came up to clutch at it, and brushed against the revolver he kept above it. One of his specials, and the one he most wished he had never given out. He kept it with him at all times, always unloaded. That way, it could never be used so wrongly again. It was also his burden to carry, one that he couldn't shed yet. _"No, not yet..."_

He gave a start as the band struck up a waltz, jolting him out of his memories. This one was reserved for the newlyweds and the lucky catchers. He stood up to get a good view of them, and couldn't help but smile looking at the couples dance, or at least try to. The newlyweds just about managed to dance on air, Vash included. Ruddy and the bar girl were doing okay, though some toes would probably feel it in the morning. However, it was Milly and the showman that caught his eye. They were swooping around the others, their large stature giving them more distance, but that wasn't the only reason. As they turned, he got another look at her face. She looked so happy, save that instead of getting lost in the eyes of her partner, she was keeping hers closed. He sat back down, shook his head, and sighed. Whoever the poor girl was dancing with, it certainly wasn't the man in front of her. Maybe this was the fate of all with torn hearts- to only dance with ghosts and memories.

For some reason, he end up chuckling and had no idea why. He had enough of thinking for the day, so he simply grabbed the salad and started to shovel. It was every bit as juicy as it looked.

¤ ¤ ¤

Much, much later, one bridesmaid was quite happy to be back in something with no goddamn bows, no goddamn lace, and best of all, no goddamn pink slippers. Give her some nice steel-toed boots anyday. She contemplated burning the thing, but decided that was too good- first, someone else would have to wear the atrocious dress, _then_ she'd burn it. The only reason it had even managed to get on her in the first place was because it was Eriks getting married- if it was anyone else, she wouldn't have even touched the thing.

_"His name is Vash, not Eriks, you know."_ She had been telling herself that for a while, but it just wasn't sinking in. Vash was the fearless outlaw. Eriks barely had enough backbone to remain upright. Vash wiped out entire cities. Eriks helped patch up the roof. Vash killed with impunity and no remorse. Eriks cried when he accidentally stepped on a bug. Vash cared for no one. Eriks wanted to make friends with every stranger on the street. They couldn't be the same person! And yet, somehow, everyone said they were.

She sprawled out on the beat up green sofa, put her feet up on the armrest, and stared at the ceiling. Eriks and her new sister-in-law hadn't come back to the apartment with the rest of them, and probably wouldn't be back until late tomorrow. She didn't want to let him out of her sight, but she knew enough to know that whatever was going on, the two did not want an audience for it. Still, why did he have to spent so little time with her? They were family...

"Mr. Vash sure has been busy lately. Tea?"

She swung into a sitting position and took the offered cup, sniffing at the contents. It smelled strong, and a slurp revealed no sugar or cream, just straight up bitter tea. She drained half the cup in a few gulps while Milly sipped hers slowly. The men were all either out or shut in their rooms to brood, so that left just the two of them. Compared to recent events, it left the room feeling very empty, almost lonely. It needed more.

"Say, Milly... You've known Vash for a long time, right? What's he like?"

"Don't you know? He's been around you about as long as we've been around him. Maybe you know him better, since he was able to be who he wanted to be instead of who he felt he had to be." Milly's face contorted a bit in confusion. "If that made any sense. He's always been so worried about others that he could never be who he is."

That made her feel a little better. Maybe everyone else was wrong, and Eriks was just Eriks. That still left her with an unknown family member. "And what about Meryl?"

"Meryl? Well, she's very complicated, so I'm not sure I can really tell you about her... I know! I can tell you all about our travels, that's much better than just hearing an opinion. I first met Meryl after they transferred me for the eighth time at Bernardelli, which was where we used to work. They needed someone to track down Vash the Stampede and minimize the damage he was causing, so..."

Once started storytelling, Milly was impossible to stop. She must have kept talking for hours, so it was good that she was excellent at telling the stories. Otherwise, drastic action involving the sofa cushions might have been required. As it was, the sheer volume was getting to her more than anything else. Maybe if she just rested her eyes for a bit...

¤ ¤ ¤

Once Lina's eyelids drooped shut and her breathing slowed, she knew it was time for bed. Before she got herself ready, she found a nice warm blanket and draped it over the little big girl on the sofa. The poor dear was still exhausted from trying to find Mr. Vash, even though she pretended she was fine. A few more days of hot meals and good rest was just what was needed.

As for her own needs... Well, once she figured out what she needed, she'd be able to take care of it. For now, a spongedown to cleanse the body of grime followed by a night's sleep to do the same for the mind sounded about right. Anyone who didn't get enough sleep was bound to be rather distracted and grumpy the next day, and that helped nobody. Of course, being Milly, once it was decided it was as good as done. Just a few minutes later, she was ready for sleep, save one little task. She turned over to face the Cross Punisher, as it leaned against the wall beside the bed.

"It's been really busy today, Nicholas. Meryl and Mr. Vash finally got married! And I got to be the priest! Though I guess that's not really news, since you were there for the whole thing. I was really surprised that Mr. Neon was so good at dancing- people are just full of surprises, aren't they? Funny thing is, I couldn't think of anything but you the whole time... But afterwards, I did think a lot, about that and this, but mostly about what to do now. I'm not sure I have a job anymore, and I have a bad feeling that I'm in really big trouble. I mean really, _really_ big trouble, like the kind Mr. Vash gets into. I really wish you were still here to say 'Everything'll be fine!' or something like that. I also thought of what it might be like if you hadn't gone away. We'd be married now, and I'd probably be getting all fat like big big sister did after she got married. Would it have been a boy or a girl? Or maybe three of each! Well, it's time to sleep, so I guess that's all... I wonder... if, just maybe... I might see them... when I dream?"

Milly fell fast asleep right after the last word. The Cross Punisher stood against the wall through the night. It couldn't guarantee sweet dreams, but it could chase away nightmares. That was good enough, really.

* * *

Sign here. And here. And over here. And here, here, here, and here. Oh, and initial over here too.

Wolfwood: Is this _really_ necessary?

Hey, you're lucky I had a few Form M-837-R "Sanctification of Marriage by Proxy Post Mortem" on hand. Otherwise, you'd never make it in the three day window. The bureaucracy gets real nasty if that happens.

Wolfwood: Sheesh. Give a guy a break, why don't you? I'm supposed to be resting in peace, not up to my ears in paperwork!

A break, eh? And just where were you while the weddings were taking place? I couldn't find you anywhere around here!

Wolfwood: I was in the bathroom?

Nice try. Midvalley's been cooped up in there since he got here.

Wolfwood: Well, you're the one that's making me jealous of my own sidearm!

And what's _that_ got to do with you being nowhere to be found? Though you do bring up an interesting possibility... I don't think anyone's done a MixCP fic yet...

Wolfwood: _Don't. Even. Go. There._

Yeah, yeah... Well, that's another chapter done, and a rather good length one at that! Lots of little detail floating around, and I feel pretty good about it. Oh, I think I'll be having some fun with Knives and his girls. ¤snickers in a manner only capable by an evil author¤ Anyway, onwards to the attention you all so richly deserve, seeing as I've been a sick overworked slowarse with this chappy.

**Reviewer Responses**

hope-is-4ever: I have a horrible feeling that your horrible feeling might be right.

cjflutterbye: An open-mouthed shocker? I still got it! and no, I'm not dead, just _feeling_ dead. Which pretty much guarantees I'm not dead.

betsytheripper: I'm not going to die anytime soon, because I have socks to wash (guess the reference, win a cookie!). I think E.G. is available, though with the demand for these deceased GhGs maybe I ought to start charging... But I don't think there's a plumed purple hat that's large enough to do me justice, though The Stick could work as a Cane of No Mercy with some gold plating...

Blu: Man, your Zazie is a lot more fun than my Zazie. All mine does is curl up and cry about 'the bad place' and how he doesn't know why he's here. I've tried everything to cheer the little guy up- candy, beatings, sock puppets, beatings, sing-alongs, and beatings. Nothing is improving his morale!

Pen Against Sword: I know who wins the duel in your name. Or rather, who will have the populace remember that it won ;) Fear not, Milly will have her heart healed by the end (though that doesn't necessarily mean hitching up with someone), since I'm not that cruel as far as any of you know.

inkydoo: Cross your fingers for faster enjoyment output.

Yma: Actually, I only got around to half of Knives' reasons here. The rest lie beyond the other doorway to memory, and I shuffled them to a point a bit later on. That was pretty much when he decided that humanity was unsalvageable- the cause of his desire to kill in the first place shall be revealed when the story gets around to it.

Hopeful Wings: Zee wedding! Zee wedding! I hope you liked zee wedding!

Lone Warrior2: The List is good, right? Legato likes to make lists too, except they're all nasty...

kitsune: Aw, there's nothing wrong with that according to Legato, so you get a cookie! And as I just mentioned to Yma up yonder, this was only half of what made Knives so Knivesish. As for the bachelorette party, Meryl didn't bring along a headache remedy just for looks, though I seriously doubt she'd ever get totally smashed. Too much of a sense of responsibility for that to happen accidentally. 


	29. Interlude I

Interlude I  
On Change

Time is a measure of change. If nothing changes from one moment to the next, can it be said that time has passed? Or, perhaps, change is the only method we have to perceive the passage of time. In either case, the two are intricately woven together- with no time, change is impossible, and with no change, time becomes irrelevant. This alone can generate much debate, but that is not why this is here.

However it may exist, change is very real, so much so that the oxymoron "constantly changing" can be used and have a meaning not cancelled by itself. It is thus ironic that we humans so crave a stable situation- a period of time when change is low. The greatest irony of this is that the state of complete stability is not one that any person normally desires- this state of perfect unchanging stability is known as "dead". Death is the final change anyone will undergo.

But we do not all desire death, so we accept a certain level of change. This is healthy- at some levels, change will strengthen muscle and bone, sharpen wit, and prime the mind. However, what happens when change exceeds our ability to manage it? Muscles break, bones shatter, and the mind can be driven to madness. The level of change that can be endured before damage occurs can be measured in myriad ways, and in an incredible display, sometimes a change too great can be blunted into a later effect, distributing the change over a greater time and thus letting one cope without breaking.

In the end, the ones who can most manage change end up as either the best or the worst of us- excessive change drives one to the extremes, though the direction cannot be known. And thus lies a quandary- when faced with massive change, do we resist, or go with it? Will it break us, or strengthen us? Such things are easily deduced with hindsight but going in to face such change, there is only one thing for certain- it will hurt. However, sometimes, the pain is nothing compared to what may be lost- or, if we find the strength, what may be gained. 


	30. Chapter 28: Ups and Downs

Ah, the holidays. Singing, presents, feasting, goodwill to all, etc, etc. Bah, humbug! Fun is forbidden! 

I'd have gotten to this chapter sooner, had my computer not been stricken by a little problem. It was a fairly simple thing, really- computers are, indeed, quite flammable, as mine recently proved. Thus, instead of writing, I was rebuilding my charred system. Now I'm back up and running, with very little loss of irreplaceable things despite my old HD ending up extra crispy (Just about all my writing was already on the site). As a consequence, I've lost all of my E-mail addys and messages as of the end of 2004, so you may want to drop a quick line. I might even reply! Honest! Don't laugh, that's mean... Ah well... The story moves on!

Disclaimer: _Fire bad! FIRE **BAD**!_

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars 

Chapter 28: Ups and Downs

He definitely needed to figure out some way of getting more hours in the night, if this was how they would be budgeted from now on. Even plants needed to sleep _sometime_. At least the few hours he had managed to get were top notch as quality went. A workout always helped him fall sound asleep, a soft bed meant no soreness in waking, but all of that was nothing compared to the wonderful feeling of peace he had that morning, the source curled next to him. It was really great, to be alive, to love, and be loved in turn. The soft yellow light that filtered in from outside left everything in an uncertain haze, save for what he could feel right beside him. It was almost perfect...

And then it was perfect. The moment hadn't changed at all, save only one little detail. Violet and aquamarine could finally see the other. It was such a small thing to change, but it did create perfection. Not for the physical change itself, but the mere fact that now, the moment was shared, and _that_ made the difference. This moment was theirs, now and forever.

¤ ¤ ¤

Breakfast in bed. Searching her memory as far back as it could go, she couldn't remember _anyone_ serving her breakfast in bed simply to pamper. Usually, there was work to be done or a schedule to keep, and that would have her up and out the door in no time flat- breakfast often squeezed down into a ration bar that would be devoured on the way to whatever fire she had to put out that day. Time spent idly eating was time that could often be put to better use, not to mention that there was rarely anyone around to go to such lengths over her.

Still, all that had or hadn't happened in the past was completely irrelevant to the eggs, toast, and coffee on the squat little tray table before her. Vash- no, her husband -had insisted on it, despite her misgivings on the fireproofing of the kitchen nook and the edibility of his cooking. Surprisingly, it was not only edible, but downright delicious, and absolutely nothing exploded in the preparation. Still, _something_ just wasn't right. Nothing was obviously wrong either, so maybe this was just an adjustment to married life. Breakfast soon vanished, and the tray table was whisked off before she could lift a finger. Slipping back down under the bedcovers, she wiggled into the mattress and was just starting to doze off when it hit her.

She didn't _want_ to get out of bed.

She didn't want to be peeking through blinds to see if it was safe. She didn't want to wear a dingy gray cavalry uniform as a disguise. She didn't want to be chased around the planet by bounty hunters. However, all those things lay just beyond the bed she was in. No wonder she didn't want to get out of bed. She sighed and pulled the covers over her head. Maybe the nasty world would be suddenly replaced with a nicer, less lethal version if she didn't watch.

However, her little nest didn't remain undisturbed for long. A finger poked at her ribs through the sheets, so she turned over. It came again, poking the small of her back, so she flipped over again. An exaggerated "Hmmm..." came from somewhere above the covers, and nothing happened for a few seconds. Then a pair of hands clamped down, and she shot up with a squawk. "_Vash!_"

"Ooh, soft..."

Her clenched fist went up, intent on rattling around whatever he kept in his head, but the intent petered out. Her hand didn't even manage to get through his hair before dropping down onto the sheets. Vash's overly smug look dropped with it, taking on the fine lines of concern. Before he could speak the question she knew he was about to ask, she answered. "I'm just... tired."

And with that, she rolled over, bringing up the covers again and hoping he'd get the idea. Of course, that was wishful thinking. The mattress shifted a few times, and then the covers were slowly peeled back from her face. He was now lying beside her, the concern even more deeply rooted on his face and sadness in his eyes. "Meryl?"

"It's not about you, if that's what you're thinking."

She turned her head up and sighed. An arm came from around and under to gently shift her over, placing her head right under his chin, in the crook of his neck. Her own arm came up, pushing aside the sheets, and circled around his back. She drew him in tightly, a sudden need for warmth overriding the cause for caution what with all the pieces of metal that were stuck in his body. She felt his voice rumble to life again. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes, but it's okay. But... can we stay like this, for now? I... I..." Her voice was cracking. Damn it all, this just _wasn't her_. His other arm came up and he stroked her hair as she swallowed against the horrible despair that was welling up from a dark pit inside her.

"Way back, a few days after the ships crashed, I was trying to get to sleep. Suddenly, I started crying. I didn't know why, I thought I can already cried over everything that I had lost, so I didn't know why I was crying... It took a long time to understand, I only figured it out after you saved me. I was mourning the future I had lost, of the nice happy easy days, that I thought would have gone on forever... However, it was also something more. Though I didn't know it then, I was also glad, in a strange way. The future I had always assumed would be there, set in stone, was gone, and yet... I still had a future. I was still alive, still me. I had a second chance to make a future, a new one. I know now that no matter what happens, as long as I'm alive, I can keep making new futures, filling in my blank tickets. It's okay to cry now, because it's not about weakness or loss, it's about finding the strength to create a new future. So go ahead, show me you're strong enough to make a new one."

The dam burst, and she bawled into his chest. The sobs shook her whole body as she cried, the tears carrying away the fractured pieces of her old hopes and dreams. As they trickled out, things began to emerge from the rubble. Simple things, important things, things she had built the hopes and dreams upon and then forgotten about, now standing like mountains, tall and proud, ready to something new to be built upon them. Still she cried, now at the joy of all that she still had and the possibility of what could be. He held her the whole time, not letting go. She wasn't an insurance girl anymore, with a mid-sized apartment on the south side of December and a knack for damage assessment. She was Meryl Stryfe, the Stampede's wife, now ready to write her own part of the legend.

¤ ¤ ¤

Elsewhere in town, another walking plant was also working on the future. However, this was in a specific timescale, with defined goals. Namely, for what would happen in a week hence, and for the quick departure the event would likely entail. Thus it was that Millions Knives was again found working on an old transport in an alley beside the apartment block, giving the engine a thorough cleaning. The midday suns beat down relentlessly, soon forcing the not-so-good brother to reluctantly shed his armor. It was for the best, anyway- the truck was in poor shape, and kept spilling its various fluids on the displeased form beneath.

"Here."

"Be faster next time."

He dragged the towel in as brother's youngest pet human kicked some sand over his legs. It seemed that brother _never_ disciplined his pets in the least. That this one managed any control at all was astounding given her condition. The stewpot of hormonal influences he could smell wafting off her only hinted at what was doubtlessly raging beneath. It was bad enough that he had taken a quick look inside her mind, and it assuaged his concerns over her somewhat. Brother was at the center of the universe as she saw it, and her fawning devotion for him was exactly how humans ought to view their superiors. A little education and discipline would have her exactly where she should be, though brother mostly likely would end up filling her head with nonsense and turn a potentially effective servant into yet another threat.

Such thoughts, while certainly having their time and place, did not belong at this time and place, as a radiator hose, partially decayed, finally burst in a spray of water. Deciding that the system was best left to drain before he removed the faulty part, he slid out from under the transport and went to replenish his own water supply. As he drank, a memory from long ago surfaced, about how he and Vash had once ran themselves into a sweaty mess back on the ship, then how Rem had simply smiled at them and hoisted up a watering bucket up to pour all over them. He had laughed so much back then, at how the water felt falling down on him like that. He lifted up the water glass he now held, just about to pour the remainder over his torso, when he abruptly came to his senses. He couldn't believe what he had almost done. His sisters were being drained of life to produce this liquid, and he had almost gone and _wasted_ it frivolously! Being around brother was getting to him, he was losing focus on what was really important. If this continued...

A growl emerged from the back of his throat, and he plunged back under the transport. Curse that old hag for corrupting brother! If it hadn't been for that chance discovery, neither of them might have known what danger was around until it was too late. However, brother was still caught up in her treacherous web. He was so infuriated that he had taken off over half the support bolts before noticing that a wrench was the proper tool for the job, not his hands. He grunted in annoyance at the half dozen stripped bolts he held- more parts to replace that he wouldn't of needed to replace had he just remained focused. He hunted for a wrench for a few moments, then remembered that he had placed it back in the toolbox.

"Girl! Bring me the smaller wrench!"

There was no response. He looked around for her red boots, but couldn't spot them anywhere. Now thoroughly annoyed, he started to /listen/ for her. He /heard/ her right away, towards the back of the alley. The warble of fear was unmistakable. He popped out from beneath the truck in a moment, cursing the sheer number of people that left him unable to constantly /listen/ for danger. A quick scan showed no other humans nearby, and she looked intact, at least from the back. A few strides had him right behind her, looking over her shoulder at what she had focused upon. There was a slight quantity of blood on her hand.

"What did you cut yourself on?"

She shrieked, jumping up so high that they were eye to eye and at the same time attempted to deliver a roundhouse kick. As if he would get caught by surprise as easily as she was. He debated how hard he should throw her, but decided that the less the damage done, the better, since brother would make a fuss over the slightest scratch even if it was entirely the fault of his own pets for reacting improperly. Still, it was only natural for them to lash out when surprised- how was it that the Evergreen had put it? 'The cornered mouse attacks the cat,' indeed. He caught the leg and twisted around and back, neatly diverting momentum from a roundhouse kick into a belly flop. It wouldn't cause any damage, but it would set off just about every skin level pain receptor, hopefully teaching this pet to check twice before baring fangs. However, like so many of brother's pets, this one would be just as slow to learn.

"_You jerk!_ What did you do that for!"

He was not in the mood for this, so he got right in her face. "Do _not_. Do. That. Again."

"Y-yeah... Sorry..."

"Now, what did you cut yourself on?"

"Nothing! It's... It's..."

"Nothing?" He strongly doubted it, but there appeared to be no breaks in the skin on her hand or forearm, so where had the blood come from? She was being unusually evasive about it, which was counter to any treatment that might be applied. Tiring of her blustering, he lightly skimmed her mind. Ah. Humans and their elaborate social taboos. Really, to get so worked up over a natural part of your species' biological processes. Still, didn't they bother to at least point out a few very simple facts sometime in the process of instilling those taboos on bits of anatomy? However, even though he knew exactly what was happening, he did not know of any remedy for the side effects that presented themselves. For one, he was male and thus it had no bearing on him. For another, it was not something his sisters would deal with either. Fortunately, there was another human female among brother's pets that would know what to do.

"Go back inside and see Milly. She can deal with it, and it is perfectly normal. Now go!"

She scrambled off, embarrassment having turned her nearly as red as her boots. Human females... Far too unpredictable and subject to fluctuation. It was odd that even one had proved stable enough for the reliability he demanded among the Gung-ho Guns. Why anyone would prefer to be one of those things was beyond him, but effectiveness was effectiveness. And speaking of which...

"Hey, handsome."

He ignored the pretty faces that rounded the corner and ducked back under the truck. "Get me the smaller wrench from the toolbox."

The tool was handed over promptly. At least these two were always helpful and did exactly as told. Brother's pets could learn a thing or two from their example. Of course, not being plants, they did have their flaws...

"Mmm... It's a shame you keep that shirt on so much, it's practically a _crime_ to keep that body covered."

He winced in annoyance. Yes, it would be better to keep them separate. Brother's pets would probably just pick up the negatives, and then he might have to do something drastic to stay sane.

* * *

Yes, I know it's been a long time. Still, I did have a very good reason. Restoring a system from nearly nothing isn't easy. 

Legato: It was divine punishment for disrespect to my master. And your loss was not that great.

Wolfwood: Bet he misses his pr0n collection. How much did you have again?

Zip it, both of you.

Legato: Yes, so much dirty material, that only the cleansing fire could purify it.

Wolfwood: Man, must have been pretty hot stuff!

Thin lava crust, fellows.

Legato: It was a lousy system anyway, unworthy of having my master's name typed upon it.

_THAT'S IT! Nobody insults my computer!_ Legato, I'm going to turn you into your manga form! ¤pulls out The Stick and unleashes the deadly art of IPityDa'-Fu, much pain commences¤

Wolfwood: Well, while those two are busy, let's see what I can find on the 'net... Uh huh, yeah, standard fanfics... o.O; I never did that with Vash!

**Reviewer Responses**

betsytheripper: I think I owe everyone a free cookie for the wait. Dig in!

inkydoo: Double plus good? Really? I'm impressed. And everyone will _not_ be dead by the end. I think.

cjflutterbye: I think just about anyone can figure out where I'm going with Milly by now. And where was my threat of maiming and/or death? I assume it was because of excessive fury, though I hope Knives's wardrobe today made up for it slightly.

mangaqueen: Hmm... I wonder how far in you got.

Yma: I see you've taken up the old writing implement of choice again. A little competition is a good thing :) Today's installment is a first time thing, something new for me with the Interlude-chapter combo. Also good to hear that I captured so many details, though the confusion is to be expected... Only had almost the whole cast in one big room, what could go wrong:P

Blu: Legato won't be causing any more trouble for a while. I think I randomized his bones...

Hopeful Wings: Knives just isn't going to get a break. Not around Vash, at any rate.

kitsune: Actually, a place to hide out is _my_ gift, though we could co-sign since they don't yet have it... And I'll give Knives a few good pats with The Stick, since I have it out.


	31. Chapter 29: Mail Bag

Mmmm... Nope. Got nuthin'.

Disclaimer: ¤on leave¤

Rise of the Silver Stars

Chapter 29: Mail Bag

_Bernardelli Insurance Society  
1282 Main St.  
December_

ATTN: Personnel Dept.

FROM: Stryfe, Meryl. Field Agent #42  
ALSO: Thompson, Milly. Field Agent #64  
Dated Rising the 29th.

Effective Heat the 2nd, we have decided to pursue other opportunities and will be terminating our employment with the company. We have enjoyed our time with the company, but feel that extenuating circumstances have made continued employment impossible. Said circumstances will prevent us from tendering our resignations in person as prescribed in Section XI of the Employment Agreement. As such, all claims on severance, reference, and back pay are voided as stated in Section XI.

Signed,  
Meryl Stryfe  
Milly Thompson

"Are you _sure_ we should do this, Meryl? Maybe we could-"

"No, we're done, and it's time to move on. You haven't forgotten what they tried to do with my luggage, have you?"

Milly's head swung back and forth in reluctant acknowledgement. There wasn't any point in staying on with Bernardelli- they could take their Vice Presidency and stuff it. This just made everything nice and formal. It felt surprisingly good to write it up, even without the satisfying soft taps of the typewriter. Funny, that- It was technically company property, but the typewriter had been with her for so long it just felt like it was hers. However, it was long gone, left back in what had been her apartment. It was doubtlessly in the hands of the feds by now, along with everything else she had owned. It was time to face up to the fact that none of it was coming back, and the handwritten note simply helped draw the line between then and now. She could always get more things. Indeed, she already had a good set of body armor, and one little ring. While a minute quantity compared to what she had, it already _felt_ like more.

Milly, on the other hand...

"What now, Meryl? I don't know what else to do."

"Well, we'll just have to play it by ear for a while. I'm sure we'll find something. Eventually."

Milly just laid a finger aside her head and looked back at her. "But you've already got something. Taking care of Mr. Vash will keep you really busy, won't it?"

"Ugh... I hate to say it, but I think you're right. That man can get himself in more trouble than anything. Just today, I've already had to unhook a cat that had somehow managed to get its claws stuck in his _ear_, of all things!"

"See? Mr. Vash needs you, and you have him! I'll just have to find something on my own..."

"Oh no you don't. I got us into this mess, and I'm not going to leave you to find your way out alone. We've been a good team, and we'll _stay_ a good team. What kind of leader would I be if I didn't watch out for my comrades? Besides, we're more than that- we're friends."

Milly lunged forward and swept her into a crushing hug. There was no time to react before the air got squeezed out of her by the larger woman's affections. Without missing a beat, she was spun around the room. "Oh Meryl! I'm so happy!"

"..ned ..er."

"What was that Meryl?"

"Need... air..."

"Oops! Sorry!" The big girl dropped her back into her chair. "I guess I overdid it a little..."

A few good lungfulls later she was able to puff out some words. "With that sort of strength, I'm sure we can find something for you. How did you get so strong, anyway?"

"Well, I've always carried around a lot of memories!"

No good response came up, so she just smiled and nodded back. Milly mirrored it, then jumped up and headed for the door. "We need pudding to celebrate! I'll be right back!"

_"Celebrate...?"_ Well, Milly probably had a reason, and they could make time to celebrate whatever evidently needed celebrating. There was just enough time before Milly got back for her to fold the letter, place it in the waiting envelope, and seal it shut.

¤ ¤ ¤

_Dear Mom/Dad/Big Big Sister/..._

How are you? Better than me, I hope. I had to quit my job. Well, Meryl said it was already as good as done and it would just make things easier to move on, but I'm not so sure. I mean, I was kind of responsible for getting an office all shot up, and I think I scared some of the people there really badly, but we could've patched things up, right? Well, what's done is done, though it's given me that funny tickle-feeling in my belly, you know, the same as back when me and Meryl got sent out after Mr. Vash the first time.

Oh! And speaking of Mr. Vash, he and Meryl got married, just like I thought they would! Big Big Brother was there, too, and he's still a bit of a meany. He yanked my hair again not five minutes after I met him, though he hasn't done it since. It's really strange, but now that he's stopped I kind of miss him doing it. But anyway, there was another big thing about the wedding that you'll never guess! I got to marry them, just like a priest! And then I did it again for Mr. Julius and Ms. Moore, you know, Big Big Brother's cavalry friends? It was a big surprise, and they were just so happy they could barely manage the I Dos. I think I did well- a few people asked afterward if I could do more marriages!

Oh, and Mr. Vash's family was there too. You already know about his brother, Mr. Knives (he's still nasty, much much worse than anyone else, though I think he's getting better), but it looks like Mr. Vash has a little sister too! Her name's Lina. She was quite a mess- the poor dear was all alone after her granny died, and had been wandering around for ages. I really had to scrub to get her clean, and I'm stuffing her with lots of pudding since she was nearly all bones when Big Big Brother found her. She and Mr. Vash kind of remind me of how Big Big Brother and I used to get along, except they're a little rougher. She's rapidly blossoming into a fine young lady, though I think things may have been better if she had more time. Still, she's really strong, and with a bit of help I'm sure she'll be just fine.

In fact, it sort of feels like one family here. Mr. Vash and Meryl and me and Lina and Mr. Knives, and Mr. Rai Dei who I haven't told you about, and Mr. Marlon, who I also haven't told you about, are all here in one apartment. It's really fun with so many people around. Mr. Rai Dei used to work for Mr. Knives, though he seems to be working for Mr. Vash now. He's a bit confusing, and seems sad at times, but he's so proper and well mannered. He also tells the most wonderful stories! I think he would be a great teacher, he's really good at speaking and knows lots of ways to say something. I'm sure Uncle Larry and him would get along great. Then there's Mr. Marlon, who is nothing less than the best gunsmith anywhere! I'm thinking about dropping the stungun ever since he made me a new one. Well, sort of a new one. It's complicated. I am a bit worried about him, though. He wants to make the world better, for everyone, but seems uncertain on how to do it. I'm sure Mr. Vash can help him. Still, it's quite a mess with so many guys around. Laundry is really hard to do, and the smell- eww!

Well, I wanted to put this off as long as I could, but I really need to say it now. Hopefully the mail will be a bit faster that the other thing. Mom, Dad, I've tried to be good, but somewhere I wasn't, and I've gotten myself in big trouble. I mean big, **big** trouble. Mr. Marlon brought it in from the post office this morning. I'm Wanted. With a bounty, and everything! It's scary, especially the 'Dead or Alive' part. Surely I've never done anything that bad! I don't know what to do, except to stay around Mr. Vash. He says he'll protect me, but he needs to look after himself too. I first though I could turn myself in, as it surely had to be a mistake, but everyone says that's not what I should do. Even Big Big Brother. He got all angry, then all sad, then angry again, and I had to calm him up. It really isn't his problem, anyway. It's my problem, and I'll deal with it, somehow. I'll keep writing whenever I can, but I don't know how you can write me back. When I was on the road it was hard enough to get your letters, but now... I just don't know. Mr. Vash is going to have his big showdown soon, and then we'll be on the move. We might never stop. I really hope things will work out.

Hugs & Kisses,  
Milly

_"And that's everyone!"_ She tapped the pile of letters together, and neatly tied them securely with twine. It wouldn't do to have any of them getting lost, even if they were short this time around. It always got so much easier to think after finishing them all. Well, almost all. She didn't need to write Big Big Brother a letter, since he was right here, and a good dinner was always better than a letter. Now all she had to do was go down to the post office, and... Oh dear.

She couldn't go down there, could she? All the bounty hunters might come after her, even if it meant making a mess of the post office, and then where would everyone get their mail? They really didn't need jail- all it took was a few little copies of her smiling picture plastered under that big scary "WANTED" and she was stuck in a few little rooms anyway. There was no figuring it out. Everything she had done, was done because it was the right thing to do, wasn't it?

And what exactly was an "Enforcer", anyway? The poster said she was one of those for Mr. Vash, but she didn't remember him _ever_ asking her to become whatever an Enforcer was. Maybe it would make more sense if she looked it up, surely there was a dictionary around here...

After a few minutes of unsuccessful searching, she had worked her way around the living room and started on the kitchen when a sudden tapping on her shoulder made her yelp and jump up. Unfortunately, there was a cabinet door open overhead, and her head hit it hard enough for stars to make their way into the kitchen. Mr. Marlon looked agast, but everything hurt too much for her to say anything but "Ow..."

"Are you okay? I'm really sorry, here, sit down and I'll get some ice for that."

She heard Mr. Marlon rummage around while she sat and clutched at the already forming bump. It stung and throbbed, and letting up only made it worse. Squeezing her eyes shut seemed to help.

"Okay, I've got an icepack. Let me see it."

His hands gently moved hers aside, and a wonderful cold feeling began to spread down, numbing the lump.

"Open up, and tell me how many fingers."

"That's silly, everyone has ten. Unless they lose some, that is."

"Er, yeah... You'll be fine."

A short while later, she finally felt good enough to look around and saw Mr. Marlon hovering next to her. "I'm fine, really. Thank you."

"Just making sure. What were you looking for, anyway?"

"A dictionary."

"In the kitchen?"

"Well, things are always in the last place you look, and if I were a dictionary the last place I'd be would be in the kitchen."

Mr. Marlon found something really funny, because he laughed at that. "Can't argue with that! Why don't you try asking me instead, I know a few definitions too."

"What's an Enforcer?"

His grin turned upside down right away. Was that a bad question to ask? Before she could apologize, he jumped in. "It's not good, but it's _certainly_ not you. Just ignore that damn poster. I deserve one far more than you do, you're much better than me."

"But Mr. Marlon, you're the world's best gunsmith! I don't even have a job anymore..."

"Well, I believe that there's a good honest job out there for everyone. I'm sure that yours will come looking for you in due time. However, what a person does is much less important than who they are, and you, Ms. Thompson, are a good person."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Would you like me to fix some breakfast? Can't make anything more complex than cereal, but food's food."

"Breakfast? But isn't it? Oh no! ...I stayed up all night writing my letters again..."

"All night? Must be important letters."

"Oh, they are! I've got to get them mailed right away, but I can't go to the post office with all those bounty hunters out there..."

"Well, why don't I mail them for you? It's the least I can do after giving you that fright."

"You would? Oh, thank you! Now let me fix breakfast, it's much too important to only have some cereal."

He chuckled. "Fine by me. What's on the menu?"

¤ ¤ ¤

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

I know you're worried about me so let me assure you that I'm fine. However, things are a lot different for me now. I'm sure you already know all the bad, but there is some good. It's funny, because I never quite saw it coming. There isn't any way to ease this out- I just married Vash the Stampede. No, he didn't use weird psychic powers on me, and no, I didn't get hit on the head. One thing led to another, and it just happened. I feel it's going to be very positive for both of us. I love him, he loves me, and I'm sure you'll understand. However, don't expect grandkids.

I can't help but wonder if things are well with you. I can picture the sort of flak you must be getting over your relation to me. Please, don't try and defend me. If anything, try and distance yourselves from me. I know it may not be easy, but for your own sakes, please do. This is deadly serious business, and while your hearts are doubtlessly in the right place, there are things you're just better off not knowing. Just stay safe.

Meryl

"You know, I could hear you using your business voice while writing that letter."

"Hey, it's not like I'm always writing the things. And what business did you have reading over my shoulder, anyway?"

"Aren't we supposed to share everything now?"

"Why are you asking me? _You're_ supposed to be the expert on marriage! If you insist on sharing everything, I've got a list of supplies that need to be bought. Go put that spiky head to use."

Vash snatched the list, if somewhat reluctantly, and began to read. Before he reached the third item, the brave strong husband crumpled to his knees before her. "Please have mercy, oh great and wonderful one! I'll never peek again!"

She rolled her eyes and sighed. This was too much, even for him. "Well, I usually would, but there is a problem in that there's nobody else that could do it. Milly and I are stuck inside, Lina shouldn't be out alone so you'd have to go anyway, Marlon's off who knows where looking down gun barrels for the fun of it, and do I even have to mention Knives or Rai Dei? You're going, whether you like it or not."

"But _Meryl_... What if somebody sees me?"

"Then you can tell them that it's for your wife and little sister, who were very insistent on it. And if you still won't go, I'll explain exactly why each and every item is important."

Vash finally slumped down in defeat... Or so she thought. No sooner had she turned away, than Vash sprang for her foot and began to smother it with kisses in a last ditch effort to win a reprieve. Sighing again, she tugged him up by the shirt collar to stare into his face, still puckered up in a smooching state. He whimpered and wiggled the extended lips.

"Well, if you want to that much..."

In one smooth motion she plucked the small paper from his hand and plastered it over his face.

"...then you can kiss my list. Now hurry up!"

He froze, and the list slid down without any more suction to keep it in place. It flipped once in the air and fell right into his hand, after which he finally turned and left, all the while with his face frozen in place. She leaned out after his retreating form.

"When you get back, you'll be compensated. I _am_ a businesswoman, after all. A tough task deserves a good reward..."

* * *

Well, there goes another one. Much faster this time, too. There's only one more chapter to go before we hit the big showdown, so you action fans will gets some of what you love!

Wolfwood: Finally! You've been going so slow I could swear we've been in reverse.

Yeah. You try writing one of these.

Wolfwood: Okay. "I came back to life, married big girl, and lived happily ever after. The End." Man, that was tough.

...right.

**Reviewer Responses**

cjflutterbye: I predict that the groupies shall be rendered a non-issue in about two chapters. Just bear with it.

inkydoo: Exploded beats burned, and it hath come.

Yma: If you like Interlude I, just wait for some of the later ones. I plan to put them where they're most relevant, i.e. Before and/or after chapters that most heavily deal with what's in the interludes. And I see it as a good sort of competition, where it helps all involved move faster and do better.

hope-is-4-ever: From many a night spent contemplating Life, the Universe, and Everything.

Blu: Er, it's not that bad... Is it? I mean, he gets a nifty little tricycle-bike thing to scoot around in now! It even has a little bell he can ring with, uh, his tongue?

Maria: If Knives ever says "Bring me the smaller wench!", you're reading the wrong fanfic. Likely one that's forbidden to be on >

betsytheripper: Uh... Er... Maybe I should hand out cookies that aren't 110 sugar...

Sunsilver: I walk the tightrope all the time while writing. Born to be wild, I guess.

* * *

And since Legato demands cruel torment, I give you a dreaded:

Next time, our heroes go camping on a certain mountain 15 iles south of Inepril, on the night of the 3rd. Sleep is unlikely, and you'll never guess who shows up.

...I got the idea from her. ¤points at Yma¤ 


	32. Chapter 30: The Calm Before

Meh. Houses. Mortgages. _Meh._ Vash never has to deal with that stuff.

Disclaimer: A house is not easy to get a hold on, even though they can't run and usually aren't greased.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars

Chapter 30: The Calm Before...

Well, it was about time to pack up and go. Fifteen iles and a good climb wasn't anything he couldn't do at any time, in any condition, in any weather, but others might not be so trailworthy. Thus, he had bugged Knives to fix up an old transport bus to haul them most of the way. Bro actually took to the idea fairly readily. No matter how used you were to your own company, staying cooped up in a room would eventually leave even the most ardent stick in the mud itching for something to do. The transport was no problem, though he had expected Knives to be a bit peeved about all the people that would be in fairly close proximity to the irate one as he worked on it down by the street. However, even the two hanger on bar girls didn't seem to annoy him that much, though the two of them were so set on him that they were practically chasing off anyone else that got close. Why did that seem so familiar for some reason?

Whatever the reason, at least Knives wasn't being a huge pain in the ass lately. He was almost sort of maybe displaying something resembling compassion towards Lina, if you stood on your head and crossed your eyes while looking. Well, at least it was _something_. A good salmon sandwich started out as deswheat sprouts in the fields and fish eggs in hydroponics, you just had to shelter and care for them well and they'd eventually get to a nice sandwichy state somewhere down the line. It was something to hope for, though he just wished that there was a little more time before getting tossed into a battle. Knives could really benefit from it. He had considered asking bro to stay behind, but he already knew what sort of a yelling match that would get into. Knives was coming to look after him, and that was pretty much that. Now, if he could just finagle the rest of the group out of any ideas of tagging along...

"Meryl, I think it would be best if you-"

"No."

"Won't you please reconsider?"

"Okay, let me reconsider. ...huh, you're right, the answer changed. It's now _hell_ no!"

He sighed deeply. Maybe if he tried appealing to her sensitive side with the eyes and waterworks? Nah, she knew him too well for that to work. What if he hogtied her and threw her in the closet? That might work... but when he got back, she'd _really_ let him have it. Scratch idea number two, he wasn't that brave. Actually, considering the bond between them now, there was really only one option open for him. He straightened up and looked right into her flashing eyes, that just dared him to _try_ and push her away. So he drew her in.

She made a muffled yelp into his shirt, but soon relaxed in his embrace. He planted a kiss on the top of her head, then began to plead.

"Meryl... I love you. My heart wants you right there with me through everything, but I have to keep my head about me. This is going to be the toughest fight I've ever been in. There are going to be more bullets in the air, than, well, _air_. I have no clue how I'm going to pull this one off. Even with my abilities, it's going to take everything I've got just to get me through alive. I simply can't protect you on this one, so _please_ stay here and wait for me."

She was silent for a while, her breath tickling his neck. She finally spoke, though softly. "You really are an idiot."

"But it's the truth!"

"I know it is, as only a spiky haired idiot can know truth. However, you said it yourself- toughest fight ever. Did it even cross your mind how I'd feel if you weren't quite good enough? I've been through a lot, but I don't know if I could get through that, and I _never_ want to find out. So I'm going with you, simple as that. For better or worse, remember?"

Now it was his turn to be silent for a while. He wanted to say so many things, but they all jammed up trying to get out. Eventually something did manage to squeeze out- "I'm a really lucky guy."

"No argument here. Still, I wish there was more I could do... I might be Derringer Meryl, but right now I don't have a single one on me. If they get close, I can zap them with the suit, but that's about it."

"You know, there might be another option..." He started to rummage through his bag, but couldn't find what he was looking for. He turned to the other dirt encrusted suitcase he had dragged in shortly after settling down in the apartment, and unclasped it. No, not here either... Then his attention was drawn to Meryl, who looked quite surprised. "Vash, is that-"

"Man, I can't find it anywhere. Oh, wait, I bet I stuck it in my coat pocket! Let's see, that should be in the dresser..."

"How did you get so much money? There must be over a million in here! ...Is this some of the original credit script from before they made the double dollar standard?"

"What? Oh, that. Well, I don't like to travel with money, but I do pick it up from time to time. I give most of it away, but I always tuck a little away here and there just in case. Of course, sometimes someone digs it up by sheer luck or-"

"So this is how you've always managed to have just a few double dollars handy! Just how many of these things do you have?"

"Eh, well, if I had to guess... Maybe two dozen. Most only have a few thousand, luckily the one I buried around here was one of the largest. Really helped get things moving for the wedding! I call it my Hole-in-the-Ground Bank. Ah, here we go! I just hope it's not too heavy."

He toss it to her, and she nearly dropped it twice. First out of surprise of having something unexpectedly heavy hefted her way, and then again when she got a good look at just what it was.

"Vash, you can't be serious! This is much too dangerous! What if it goes off?"

"No worries, Meryl. It won't go boom unless you've got a lot of power to dump and can send the telepathic command to the plants inside. Otherwise, it's just a fancy looking Colt. Besides, it matches your hair."

"And what about Knives? He's going to be angry, to put it mildly."

"Well, I'm certainly not about to hand it back to him just yet. He can't have it until he learns how to be nice, and until then it'd just be gathering dust."

She ran a critical eye over the black gun, holding it gingerly as if it were about to bite. He dug through a few more pockets and retrieved the belt and holster for it, and passed them off to the dubious recipient. She finally concluded her inspection and strapped it to her waist.

"See? It's all good!"

"I'll reserve judgment for later, though..."

She gave a halfhearted smile and looked to the window. In a split second, she had it drawn and aimed at the horizon. Nowhere near his speed, but still quite good. She smoothly re-holstered the Angel Arm gun, not changing her gaze from the distant line between sand and sky.

"...I wonder what they'll call me now? Hard to be Derringer Meryl without the derringers."

"Well, that's hard to say. You never know what'll stick. However, I know what I'd call you. How does 'Beloved Meryl' sound?"

She turned to him, and he knew by the merry glint in her eye that he had just scored bigtime. "C'mon you doofus, let's go see if we can talk some sense into the others."

¤ ¤ ¤

_"What a disaster."_

She hoped that the massive failure in convincing people to stay behind would balance out in some incredible luck come tomorrow. The only one who actually agreed to stay behind was the gunsmith, claiming that he was only in the business of making guns, not shooting them. Why was he the only reasonable one of the lot? Milly had politely but firmly said she was coming along, and that was that. Rai-Dei, well, he could actually take care of himself and was almost certainly better suited for this than her. Lina had begun spitting venom at the mere suggestion that she not come, and it quickly degenerated into a screaming match between the two of them. Vash had to wade in and break them up before they escalated too far. That girl was just too much like herself.

Now that it was well established that they had all lost their senses at some point, the only thing left to do was gather enough supplies for the six of them and load the transport. She couldn't quite shake the feeling that Vash knew that he'd end up taking them all from the start. Why else would he have found what was essentially a small bus? It would have been far too large for just one person. In any event, it was better than an open air truck bed. Just what _had_ happened to that truck, anyway? It should have been around somewhere...

"I'm ready to go down, Meryl."

"Okay Milly, just let me get my- What are you doing?"

Milly was well prepared for travel from the neck down. Above that things were uncertain, what with the large brown bag that was over her partner's head with two little round holes for eyes. "Milly, I know that we have to disguise ourselves, but really- a general store's _bag_? That's going to draw attention, not evade it."

"Well, what would you suggest?"

Her mouth opened to reply before she realized just what a problem this was. Her own small stature helped in staying unnoticed, but Milly was the exact opposite- her height had drawn occasional stares back when they were insurance agents, and now that they were being actively hunted she would stand out, literally. There was no way a bag would help things. If only Milly's duster had a hood, or... Maybe...

¤ ¤ ¤

"Dammit Harry, will you stop oogling the girls? You can't afford them anyway unless we get some money, and if you aren't looking hard we won't get any money."

"Ray, two words- bite me. Besides, we're looking for some girls anyway, so don't blame me for letting the old eyes linger on the lookers."

"In that case, cough up the papers. I'll look while you oogle, and it'll be sixty/forty."

Harry grunted, but obliged and shoved the two crumpled up sheets to him. Damn idiot couldn't keep his mind on the job even with a huge reward at stake. He smoothed out the flimsy material and studied their targets. Derringer Meryl and Stungun Milly, the only two members of the Stampede's gang to be caught on film. Word had it that they were in town, but where was anyone's guess. He had figured that he'd just follow the gunfire, but the entire place was staying quiet. Well, aside from that one blond fool just down the street, who couldn't stop whining about how heavy all the bags were as he tossed them onto a transport. People like that would get chewed up and spat out if they ran across the walking moneybags. Especially that Stungun Milly, just looking at her picture left a bad feeling in him. She was much too happy in it, with that huge grin and casual wave. Probably the last photo the guy ever took before he got strung up by the Stampede's lackeys, or worse- the only people that happy on a hellhole of a planet like this had to be hardcore sadists.

"Hey, check it out- that dude's got the biggest knife I've ever seen. Looks like the Cavalry's checking something out, too. Geeze, what a pipsqueak..."

"Don't stare at the Cavalry, Harry. They weren't too pleased over the last bounty you dragged in, damn near had you killed before they confirmed it was the guy. You gotta be more careful with the face, hamburger doesn't look much like anything, and shot up hamburger looks even less like anything."

"Hah! Looks like they've got one hell of a group. Check out that babe by the frowny fellow, I'd like a piece of what she's got. Oh yeah, she's the best one yet, though I can't say much for the hat. The back looks like a mushroom, and I hate mushrooms."

Against his better judgement, he found his eyes drifting on over to the bustle down the way that had thoroughly captured Harry's attention. It was quite the oddball crew. Bunch of wusses, though. A few were trying to keep an air of toughness about them, but blondie was sucking it away faster than it could be produced. Well, what was this? The next one in the parade looked ready for a sandstorm, swathed head to toe with... a bedsheet? Geeze. Must be a pretty frail person- or maybe just a bit obsessive about keeping dust out. Even the huge cross they carried was wrapped up tight. Well, as long as they weren't in the way once they found a head that was worth something.

"C'mon Harry, let's head somewhere else. This part of town's too peaceful for the Stampede or his gang."

"Eh, guess you're right. Too bad, the scenery's great around here. ...Though it's odd, I feel like somebody's laughing at us."

¤ ¤ ¤

At one point along the base of a mountain some fifteen iles south of Inepril, a growing encampment had formed. It had no name, no plan, and no law. The best spots went to those with the strength to hold them, or to those who appeared to have the strength to hold them. Bluff and bravado weighed in equally with muscle and gunpowder. Alliances would form, mature, and fall apart in mere hours as new arrivals upset the precarious balances of power. All in all, Corporal Rand disliked it as strongly as he was able.

He would have hated it, but hatred was a luxury emotion. Too random and intense, it simply got in the way of his job, and he didn't let anything get in the way of the job. He was the leader of the Cleanup Crew. Whenever a mess surfaced that the council and regular Cavalry couldn't take care of, it fell to them to get it cleaned up and they always got the job done- Usually in the dead of night, and very quietly at that. This assignment was a little larger than usual, even if the order was only three words- "Kill the Stampede." But that was the way he preferred the orders. Nice and simple, just an objective and no instructions or restraints on how to carry it out.

The 3rd was around and had been ordered to do the same, though the odds that they actually would were slim to none. Slackoffs and hicks, the whole lot of them. That was why they were stuck in the large attention-getting battlesteamer while his group was stuck in some simple ragtag tents on the very outskirts of the unnamed mountain base town. The plan was to lay low and let the 3rd flush out the Stampede, then once they had confirmed it was him, they would pick him off. They were specially equipped for this- ceramic composite bullets and prototype psijammers, the latter to guard against the mind voodoo intelligence suspected he had, and the former selected due to a few documented cases of magnetics going wild when the Stampede showed up. Between the two, his troops should keep their heads and their aim. Just in time too, the report from the scout he had sent to check on the 3rd indicated that they may have been partially subverted already. It was a good stratagem to have them as the primary target if the Stampede unleashed his city killer, though it was regrettable.

He dwelled on the regret for a moment, but pushed the feeling aside. It would only get in the way of the job.

¤ ¤ ¤

"Are we there yet?"

"Lina, we just left."

"I know, but..." She swiveled her eyes to the back and lowered her voice. "... I _really_ don't like those two."

"Well, Knives seems to really not like them too, which is actually pretty good since he downright despises everyone else. Besides, maybe you could learn a thing or two from them, it'll help you get more ladylike."

"You're one to talk, jerk!"

Lina stormed back in the transport, and he heard the seat cushions protest when she plunked down. They traveled in silence for a minute, until he felt someone behind him. A casual sniff told him exactly who it was. "Hey Meryl. I like the perfume."

"You bought it for me, remember?"

"Nope, all I can remember is that thing you did with your t-"

"_Next_ subject, _now_."

"Heh... Well, I've been thinking about the future, and I've got an idea of a nice, peaceful place we could go where nobody else will follow. It's a bit unusual, but I think it'll work out well for us."

"You actually planned ahead that far?"

"Hey! I make plans all the time, and they're all so incredibly good that it just looks like I made 'em up on the fly."

He watched her out the corner of his eye as she strained to keep from bursting out in laughter. That was his Meryl, always steadfast and in control- around others, that is. When it was just the two of them, he got to see so much more of her. Such a tangle of happiness, sorrow, love, fear, and hope, stumbling along as best she could, so much like a butterfly looking for a flower. Such pure, simple beauty, so fragile, yet braving the winds that surround the typhoon. Such warmth- yet still strong enough to twist his head back around and whisper in his ear that he had better watch the terrain's curves right now.

"So, just where is this peaceful place?"

"Well, do you remember that bus ride we took right after we had that run in with Brilliant Dynamites Neon?"

"The one where we first met Wo- ...yeah."

The cutoff wasn't lost on him. There were still some things better left unsaid. "Well, you know how those guardian machines came after the us, but since they're shut down and only you and Milly were up to coming after us..."

"Yeah, we found you in that buried... ship... Oh my."

"All the Plants were intact and most of the machinery was still functional. That means plenty of food and water, though the entire place is kinda dusty-"

"You can't be serious! Do you have any idea what the taxes are like on an _entire_ ship? Even your cash won't cover it for a year!"

"That's where a fine benefit of the outlaw lifestyle comes into play! We don't have to pay taxes, and besides- who's going to know we're there?"

She leaned on the back of the driver's chair, and he could practically hear her thinking it over. "So... An entire ship, just for us?"

"Yep."

"A mansion made of real wood, a room in a ship, water to swim in... Once I would have considered getting any of those to be my goal, when I'd finally be able to say 'I'm successful in life'. It's so strange... Now, they all feel unimportant."

"Huh, wonder what happened there?"

"Sometimes, you really are a broomhead."

He just grinned and started whistling an upbeat tune.

¤ ¤ ¤

The suns were just starting to dip down, slowly taking away their shine. That was fine by him, it let everyone else glitter a bit more, and it just might put a stop to the frequent unsuccessful attempts by the dullards to make a claim on the precipice. They didn't deserve such a prominent position, so when he had found a few at the peak he encouraged them to move elsewhere and claimed it as his own. It was a perfect stage, and had a grand audience- the Bad Lads off thataway, the Cavalry on the steamer, even the folks back in the city could watch. That golden boy knew how to pick his fights, it'd be a real shame that they'd only get one performance up here. He'd better make it the best one ever.

And wouldn't you know it, here comes the title man of this show. Looks like he brought plenty of others to help him glow. The guy was weird like that- the more folks came near him, the brighter he got. Most only got dimmer as the others blotted them out, but not him, oh no, this boy was different. Maybe too bright- a burning glow, that would make any who couldn't match it go up in a puff of smoke.

He had no intention of going out like that. Brilliance was in his name, and once the two-bit actors were out of the way he and Vash could put on the best show. They'd just have to clear out the wanna-be men so they could go at it without interruption. It would actually make for a good opening act, having the two brightest up against the dimwit horde. However, right now, it was much too late to put on a proper show. Besides, nothing was scheduled until tomorrow. That meant tonight was the time to eat, drink, and make merry, for tomorrow one would burn out. The best parties were always the ones right before a big gig.

He flashed his famous showman's grin and tipped his hat back at they came up the last few yarnz. "Vash! I saved the best spot just for us! Let's celebrate our fight tomorrow with a real shindig tonight!"

¤ ¤ ¤

"...and that's how the Thomas ended up riding him!"

The crowd around the campfire guffawed merrily while Eriks denied that it had been a Thomas, but rather a nasty mean despicable beast from the vast unknown side of Gunsmoke, come solely to make trouble for him. More laughter rang out around the circle, then the members began to break into their own little groups. Eriks and her new sister-in-law wrapped a blanket around themselves and began to coo into each other's ears. Ew, mushy... Neon got up and announced that he was going to go take a leak off the cliff, whether or not anyone actually wanted to know. Knives was still planted a little ways from the fire, staring down the one walkable slope at the other flickering lights that dotted the mountain's base. Rai-Dei was long gone, fast asleep so he could take second watch later that night. Milly was-

"Yippie! Who wants marshmallows?"

Before she could blink, there was a rod in her hand, a marshmallow on the rod, and the fire under the marshmallow. Another quickly ended up joining her own as the same set of items got dropped on Knives' escorts. Well, one of them, anyway. The less gaudy one had been staring wide-eyed into the fire all night long, seemingly entranced by the flickering flame atop the oil can. The marshmallow seemed to fit in with her overall gaze, though she kept dipping it down almost right into the fire. The gaudy one, on the other hand, flatly rejected the offering as being much too fattening for her figure. In the end, it was just the three of them that ended up toasting the treats. Not even the offer of sugary food managed to budge Eriks from under the blanket. All he said was that he already had his treat, to a multitude of eye rolls.

She was only on her sixth marshmallow when an acrid smell drifted over from the gaudy one. It wrinkled her nose, and she turned to glare at the offender. Gaudy was busy with a small bottle of polish, going over each fingernail in turn and oblivious to what it was doing to her own efforts to enjoy some toasted treats. She waved her half done marshmallow under the gaudy one's nose. "Hey, do you mind not using the stench makeup right now? I'm trying to eat here."

"Maintaining beauty takes constant effort. It's the price one pays for glamour. Not that you appear to know much on the subject."

"Hmph! I'll have you know that I don't need an entire chest full of glop to look good. I'm frankly amazed that you can carry around that huge case, especially considering how useless it is."

"Tools of my trade, dearie. Besides, I think you'd enjoy it once you were used to it."

"Dream on. I've got better things to do."

"Oh, really now? Your boots say differently. Such a fine Sunset color, and I've seen how carefully you shine them up."

Ergh. She had found her one point of obsession, and it left her flustered. "Bah! I just want people to remember it when I kick their butts, so I hopefully won't have to repeat myself later! And they're not 'Sunset' or any other of those freaky colors you makeup people have, they're red. R-E-D Red! Same as your polish."

"Tsk! You'll never develop a lady's charms like that. So many hues all crudely lumped under one bland term is not good for the art. This fine color is known as 'Crimson'. Doesn't the name excite you?"

"No, but kicking your butt is starting to sound pretty exciting."

She didn't even get a proper response, merely a noise that was halfway between a laugh and a giggle. Why, that haughty stuck-up b-

"Lina!"

Milly's voice brought her around, to see the small flame that had enveloped her marshmallow. She cursed and started waving it around to try and put it out, but it instead flew off the stick. It arced way up, then fell straight down to neatly reimpale itself- on Eriks' hair.

"Ohmygosh Mr. Vash!"

"What's up big girl? Hey, something smells good."

Meryl glanced up and yelped at the flame shooting up from her husband's head. That's when Eriks finally noticed. "HAAALP! Flamey marshmallow hair! Put it out! Put it out!"

Eriks jumped up and started running around madly. He patted his head to try and put it out, but only managed to spread burning marshmallow goo onto his hands thus tripling the number of fires being waved about. A blur zipped by and slammed into Eriks, sending him to the ground and rapidly snuffing out the fires. In the next instant, she found herself wishing she was anywhere but where she was. Knives was glaring at her, his face contorted into an expression of such pure, consuming hatred that it cut to her core. _/"How dare you..."/_

"Stop it, Knives. It was just an accident."

That... That... That wasn't... The sureness, the determination, every line on his body spoke of power just beneath the surface, a terrible power. It all came crashing down around her. That wasn't Eriks. That was _Vash_. The man who twice wiped out an entire city, the man who put the Eye of the Demon into the fifth moon. She sank to the ground, unsure if her legs could keep holding her up, and backed away from the circle. The cold suddenly began to bite, invading from all directions. What the hell was she doing here? She only knew how to bar brawl, and poorly at that. The people down there weren't drunks, they were _deadly_. This was no casual camping trip. She was in way over her head.

A sudden warmth touched her. "It's much too cold to be on your own. Now why don't we get some sleep?"

She couldn't say a word as Milly helped her into her sleeping bag, as her jaw felt frozen. The big girl then swept another blanket around them both. It was nice and warm, but the shivers just got worse. At least Milly was blocking the way to the campfire, so nobody would see her like this.

"Do you need anything?"

"No." What did she need? She needed her head examined. She needed to go back home. She needed to undo the last year. She needed...

"...mommy..."

_"Dammit."_ She was _not_ going to start bawling for mother. She clenched her teeth, refusing to let any more words pass by. More shudders came, but this time they weren't hers. She looked up.

Milly was crying. That was wrong. She hadn't known Milly long, but Milly never got sad. Large arms encircled her, bag and all, and squeezed gently. _"Did I make her sad?"_

"No, you just answered a question I had... About what might have been..."

A question? What might have been? It made no sense to her. The world had gone crazy around her. ...Maybe it would make more sense in the morning.

Oddly enough, sleep came easily, and no bad dreams were dreamt that night.

¤ ¤ ¤

"Mornin' Roy."

"Mornin' Julius. You sleep well?"

"Better than you, I'd say. Are you sure you don't want some extra leave? She is your sister and all."

"And do what? Be left guessing even more than I already am? No thank you. I'm staying here."

"Figured. That's why I brought you breakfast."

"That's against regulations to have food on the bridge, you know."

"I think we agree that regulations can go sit on it and twirl. I won't say if you don't, and I don't think anyone would mind."

A chorus of "Aye!"s resounded around the bridge. There was a nervous excitement about the whole ship, and here at the official center of everything that nervousness doubled. He slid into the captain's chair as Roy slid out. There was a sense that it couldn't go unoccupied, even for a second.

"So, how's our team doing?"

"Take a look, I've been staring through the viewer ever since the first sun crept up and lit the mountaintop."

He swung the viewer's scope back into place. While it wasn't as good as the ones for the gunners, and nowhere close to what the lookout had, it was still good enough to bring the distant figures into focus with just the slightest hint of pixelation. It wasn't even at full zoom yet, he could probably see the whites of their eyes if he so desired.

They were spread out in a loose line. The end was occupied by the massive and infamous Brilliant Dynamites Neon, casually leaning against a rock, and that Rai-Dei fellow that had taken to following Vash around. The little flower girl from the wedding was next to the swordsman, and then there was a loose group of three- Vash, Milly and Meryl. At the other end, he spotted Vash's brother and two more women. They looked the least able, but there was a certain confidence about them... Almost too confident. It bugged his gut sense. He panned it back to Vash and studied the main target of all the aggression. The red coat billowed around him in the morning breeze, with the sun glinting off his silver gun and glasses. Meryl stood at his side minus the uniform, slightly turned into the sunlight, one hand on his shoulder and the other holding a large black gun even with her head, pointed to the sky. Roy's sister stood a foot or two off to the other side, each hand resting atop a massive object- one a stungun, the other a shining cross.

There was no way he'd go walking up that mountain for a measly sixty one and a half billion double dollars. However, he didn't speak for the wave of humanity that was slowly creeping up the slope. He didn't even need to use the viewer to see them. Today was not going to be one of his better days. He saw one last detail before he pushed the box aside that made his stomach flip flop. The eyes on Vash and his brother... It was a bit too light to tell, but they almost looked to be... glowing.

If he hadn't know better, he'd have pegged that small lineup as the guards of the gates of Hell. He began the status roll.

"Gunners report."

"All large cannons ready and active, short range antipersonnel guns on standby."

"Engines."

"Power levels all green, drive is running hot, response is under two seconds."

"Comm."

"Lots of activity across the dial. Cavalry-only bands are being used by unauthorized sources. In-unit communications are hardwired and secure."

"Medical."

"Doc's ready to receive injured, teams on standby."

"Damage Control."

"No damage sustained, all teams report ready."

He took a deep breath and looked up. Huh. Their resident painting enthusiast had been busy, the upper plate of the bridge now sported the ship's namesake, a golden winged lady carrying a massive shield and blazing sword. He dipped his gaze back down, to the distant mountain, and made a silent prayer for a faithful friend while unconsciously rubbing a gold band. _"Milly, may you only conduct weddings. Never funerals."_

"Gun teams, find range! I want some dirt to fly just before that line! Link triggers, and... _FIRE!_"

The ship shuddered as the cannons all spoke up at once, signaling the start of the storm.

* * *

Well, that's it for this chapter. It's rather good sized one, well worth the wait, eh?

Wolfwood: Dammit, what's going to happen to my big girl!

Legato: Is Master going to be all right?

Wolfwood: Can they hear me on that? _Hey, you better take care of the girls, needlenoggin!_

Don't crowd the mic, fellows. And no, we don't broadcast there.

¤phone rings¤ Hello? Yes, uh huh... Oops.

Wolfwood: "Oops?" What do you mean, "Oops?"

Absolutely nothing. ...okay, there was a little mistake in processing, and someone down here is not supposed to be here. It was a _very_ unusual case.

Wolfwood: Me?

Nope, you're a keeper. Now go feed Cerebus while I do the...

**Reviewer Responses**

cjflutterbye: Not yet six weeks, but still a month. No cookies for me either unless I write faster :(

Maria: Vash gets the FUN jobs, and while the camping trip was good for a while, well, you know... Knives is _scary_.

hope-is-4ever: And indeed they did, the poor fools, and Knives has behaved. Mostly.

Sunsilver: This is one of the longest chapters to date, and hopefully ended at a predictable, though frustrating, point.

Yma: Offline, busy, moving. I'll get around eventually, but I am glad the letters had the point-counterpoint effect I had aimed for. The spice makes the stew ;)

kitsune: Chapters left- However many more it'll take. There's a lot more coming, so I haven't the foggiest. It's like walking from one mountain to another- you know where you are and which way to go, but the exact path is hard to make out. Another 30 is doubtful, but you never know. And if last time's blurb was evil, this time it's downright sadistic. I am _such_ a meany.

* * *

Next Chapter: "Total slaughter, total slaughter. I won't leave, a single man alive. La la da la, genocide. La la lo la, an ocean of blood. Let's begin... ¤tap¤ The killing time... ¤tap¤ ... ¤tap¤" 


	33. Chapter 31: The Storm

Blah blah. Life sucks at times. Attempts to fix a little problem on my computer resulted in _total shutdown_. I'll muddle through same as always.

Disclaimer: Life sucks more for those bounty hunters. Poor bounty hunters.

Disclaimer's bigger, meaner sibling: Things are going to get messy this time. Don't eat while reading. You've been warned.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars

Chapter 31: The Storm

The first salvo from the _Archangel_ landed a good hundred yarz from any of his or brother's groups. The heavy shells kicked up quite a spray of assorted rock bits and dust, and also obscured all visual signs of the advancing horde of spiders. Of course, that was no problem for him. He could /hear/ them clearly, the dirge of anger and greed clearly pointing out where they were. Still, despite the growing proximity risk, the front line advance was a lesser threat for the moment.

The persistent glimmers of thought that passed for intelligence among their kind had once again made advancements. The /noise/ among the nest last night was far in excess of what it should have been. It /sounded/ like an entire city instead of the scraggly nest it was, and that did not bode well. They had finally devised a primitive method of jamming psychic contact by having electronic devices screaming out meaningless gibberish, just like a large nest would. He frown deepened as he considered the implications. They could well and truly end his sister's communications with such things, though the more immediate problem was that he would have to get considerably closer to exert control over them. He might even have to _touch_ any that actually had one of the things on their body to establish a link. Just the thought made his hands clammy, as if in dire need of cleansing.

Of course, there wasn't much brother would permit him to do. Brother had very reluctantly recanted on his earlier agreement, allowing him to use some of his mental powers. However, he was still limited in the scope of what he could do- as if making them fall asleep would help in the long run. In any case, it would suffice for the time being. He could accomplish what needed to be done.

Small eddies rapidly passed through his magnetic field. So, they had already started shooting, without even the most rudimentary of ideas on where their targets might lay. Such idiocy... If this was the median quality of the opponent, brother's thoroughly asinine plans actually stood a better than fair chance of succeeding. Of course, that still wasn't good enough despite being better than anticipated. That was why he had made better plans.

"Go. Deal with them however you wish."

The two 'ladies' straightened up, and the mountaintop shook just slightly as the next salvo came down.

¤ ¤ ¤

At the base of the mountain, there were still a fair number of people present. The majority were hawkers and dealers of various items, drawn in by the scent of money. Not the kind to be gained from a bounty, but the kind gained when there were demands to be filled. After all, a bounty was only given to one person or group, but all persons and groups needed food, water, and ammo. This was, of course, provided that they hadn't planned ahead well enough. Corporal Rand planned ahead well. They hadn't required a single item, and could care less for the bounty. Let the hunters on the hill take the body.

They had quietly dispersed into four man fire teams the last night, scattered to various locations in the city and surrounding terrain. The 3rd appeared to be taking to a long range bombardment, but they weren't actually doing a thing besides making his ears ache. All the shells had fallen short thus far, only serving to kick up a massive dust cloud that hovered around the top of the mountain once the wind stopped blowing it away. That, and subjecting everyone in the base town to the high pitched shrikes as the shells rocketed overhead. At this rate, getting an ID would take much longer than planned, though the chaos he had expected to erupt was also on hold. None of the hunters were about to try running through the fire zone with that sort of bombardment, so it effectively kept the two groups apart. Well, aside from a few that had taken to the vertical ascent on the other sides of the mountain. He would simply watch with his binoculars until the bombardment stopped while Deadeye, the sniper of his fire team, watched through the rifle scope slightly behind him. The other two watched their backs in case of trouble from the encampment stay-behinds. He kept scanning the forward edge of the dust cloud for any signs of it clearing, but only saw more rocks go flying. Wait... There hadn't been any shells passing over at the time...

He zipped back to the spot where the rock had popped up, and could just dimly make out some motion in the thick dust. An outline appeared a second later, and he frowned. They had very clearly counted nine people on the top, and this one didn't match any of them. It was a hulking giant brute of a man, bald, clad in loose black leather that only enhanced the extreme musculature he possessed. However, the most striking feature was the face- as huge as the eyes were, he couldn't see a trace of a feature, as if they had long since rolled back in rigor mortis. Everything else was obscured under the black leather, which would make breathing supremely difficult. That assumed it breathed- the thing was walking death.

"Count seven total."

A quick sweep showed that Deadeye was right on the mark as usual. Seven of the towering monstrosities were up there, all exactly the same. That was a good enough ID for him, as only the Stampede was vicious enough to have monsters like that around. "I'm calling it as the Stampede. Take them all down."

A few whistles were the only sounds made as the sniper rifle spat out rounds. He sent the coded signal to the other teams, and took another look at the lines. All seven of the things were still there, slowly coming down the mountain. That shouldn't be possible...

"It's no good, sir. The rounds can't pierce them at this range."

He swore internally. This had to be the Stampede's doing. Well, at least they appeared to be unarmed aside from massive crushing fists, so the bounty hunters could take care of them. It was a shame that they couldn't do the entire job themselves, but it was only to be expected against someone as destructive as the Stampede. He went back to scanning the dust cloud as it slowly dissipated. It appeared that the 3rd had finally given up on the bombardment, so it shouldn't be much longer before the mountaintop was back in view. He heard Deadeye do a sharp intake of breath, so he dipped his view back down to the toughs. His teeth gritted. The bastards had concealed cannons right in their hands!

"Deadeye, fire at will. Try and make things hard for them until we can target the Stampede!"

There was no response. He turned to the sniper, and noticed that the scope lens had broken. Damn shoddy builds, he would have a word with their supply officer over this. He nudged Deadeye, but the sniper didn't snap out of it. Instead, he just tipped over slowly and a stream of blood poured out of the rifle scope. This time he swore audibly. Something had gone right through the scope and into his eye, and was now likely lodged in the sniper's brain.

"Fall back! Hide among the tents, we've been spotted!"

One of the lookouts wasted no time in dashing for the tent city, but the other remained glued in place, staring open mouthed at Deadeye's corpse.

"I said _move it_, soldier!"

The man just clutched at his legs. "My feet won't move... I can't even feel them..."

He glanced down, and saw two small red needles embedded in the man's shins. He dove down to yank them out, and just in time too- he heard the rush of a projectile that had just come much too close for comfort. He saw a puddle of red emerging from under the soldier's boot, and looked back up only to wish he hadn't. A massive nailhead stuck out of the man's mouth, and the soldier was clutching at it with one arm while the other arm hung limp. Blood began to bubble up and spill over around the nail, and it suddenly dawned on him just what had happened. He ran for cover- there was nothing to be done for a man impaled from mouth to foot. Though at the angle of entry... the attack would have had to come from practically right overhead. Now swearing loudly, he dove into the nearest cluster of tents and worked his way around under the protectively obscuring canvas. Shouts came from outside the tents, and then a horribly familiar scream of limbs that wouldn't move. Even the non-coms were being slaughtered out there!

He felt a slight rumble, and trained reflexes took over and rolled him out of the way just as the ground exploded. The tent got wrapped partially around him as it was thrown through the air, and he went along for the ride. Another scream sounded, but this one came from no human mouth. He ripped the canvas away from his eyes even as he knew just what he would see. Sure enough, of all the blasted things that could possibly go wrong, here was one of the worst in all of its hundred yarz long glory. The sandworm bellowed again and dove right into another tent cluster, instantly crushing it and anyone who was inside. He heard more of the inhuman screeches, and saw the cursed things jumping up all over the place.

A small gaggle of bounty hunters dashed across the recently-made-open field, practically running over each other. When the leader suddenly dropped, they _did_ run right over him. The abandoned comrade began to pull himself forward, the pure terror driving him to get away. The bounty hunter abruptly vanished as a sandworm dove down, and only a rapidly filling hole remained. This was too much, far too much.

He opted to remain motionless and play dead. The sounds of the rampage echoed from all sides as he forced himself to stay still. If he made it through this, he was going to get the entire goddamn Cavalry mobilized. Someone had to put an end to this. The Stampede was inhuman, and if they couldn't stop him... Then every man, woman, and child on Gunsmoke was as good as dead.

¤ ¤ ¤

Back on the mountaintop, things were considerably less catastrophic. Not that most up there had any clue as to what sort of wrath had been let loose down below, being a bit busy with the few dozen bounty hunters that had scaled the other faces of the mountain. Meryl Stryfe was one of the oblivious ones due to some slight distractions, such as receiving a number of uzi rounds to the gut.

_"Thank goodness for lost technology armor..."_

The armor suit had already proven itself twice in under five minutes, turning possibly deadly shots into mere bruises. It hadn't taken long to figure out that she was best off darting between the small boulders littering the summit, then clocking the more normal hunters with the butt of the gun. The built-in taser worked wonders on the ones with mechanical implants, but getting up close was far from safe. All the ones with heavy metal seemed to prefer lugging around howitzers, and she doubted that the armor was good enough to withstand something that would send a car flying. Thus it turned into a mad scramble from rock to rock as each one was either chipped away or shattered outright.

A momentary lull in the fire being directed her way allowed for a quick reload and general assessment of the situation. By her own count, she had knocked out or otherwise disabled twenty three attackers, though there seemed to be no end to the supply. She groaned in dismay when she noticed just how far away from the rest of the group she had gotten. Indeed, all she could spot was Knives. The plant was walking along casually, a plastic easygoing look across his face as the attackers around him just swayed and fell over. _"Why the egotistical jerk, looks like he's having a Sunday walk instead of-"_¤click¤_"-dammit."_

She spun around and caught the hunter behind her with a taser to the gut. He slumped over right on top of her, so she shoved him back up and away. Suddenly, the man's form turned to a mere outline as a blinding light erupted around him. There was a spray of red, and her entire body was slapped backward. She skidded along the ground right into a boulder, sending a blinding pain up her left side to join the burning in her eyes. She rubbed them with her one working hand, feeling a wet stickiness everywhere. Vision came back slowly and painfully, and the first thing she could make out was a figure standing over her. The taser came out again, but before she could connect her arm was kicked aside then stepped on.

"Careful, spider. Just because brother picked you doesn't mean you can turn on me."

The weight on her arm lifted and she tried to sit up, only to have white fire rip through her shoulder.

"It's dislocated. Hold still."

Inhumanly powerful hands clamped down on her arm and collar and shoved. She heard the pop even as the pain ripped through her form again, forcing enough tears through to clear her vision. Her eyes cracked open to see him glaring down at her, now with a good honest scowl of disapproval. The dull throbbing that consumed her entire frontside demanded attention, so she glanced down only to have her eyes widen with horror. Everything was red, a terrible rusty red. A sharp intake of breath brought the smell along, and finally overloaded her senses. She rolled on her side and retched, causing the pain to flare up again.

"How pathetic. It's not yours at all. However, it is sickening to see just how far your kind will stoop. Such viciousness... And now, you can't do a thing. You're useless, so why don't you rest while I take over."

Her retort died on the tip of her tongue as a wave of exhaustion overtook her prone form. She could feel him /shoving, relentlessly driving her down. She fought back- she couldn't rest, not now, not with so much at stake... _/"Unwise. You are damaged. I am much more capable. Besides, brother has a great interest in you. I will not stand by and let his favorite run off and kill themselves in some noble yet futile gesture once again."/_

He slammed her down into the darkness of unconsciousness, then studied her sprawled body while doing the same to anyone else that looked his way. He had intended to let brother keep that two-faced Rem, but she had run off and ruined everything instead, turning what would have been a mercifully swift and painless end to humanity into an agonizingly slow death that threatened to take down his kind as well. Brother's new pet would need watching, her foolish notions were just going to leave brother a sobbing wreck yet again. The things he did for family...

¤ ¤ ¤

Around the other side of the mountain's summit, another small spitfire was finding out how little bite there was to back up her considerable bark. The bounty hunters were trying to kill them, all of them, and that included her! This wasn't how any of the stories she had heard went... They were the good guys, they should be winning with no sweat, or have the Cavalry come riding to the rescue. Instead, she had fled at the first impact, an overpowering panic sending her to run and hide in a crack under a large boulder. That was where she had stayed, huddled in the shadows while the sounds of fighting outside echoed all around her. She practically crushed her ears and squeezed her eyes shut so hard that they felt like popping, all to try and block out the horrible things going on around her. It did no good. Even blind and deaf, she could still _feel_ the very ground shake from the intensity of the fight outside. She gave up blocking it out, and just held herself while peering out.

He refuge stayed safe for a time, but not forever. A group of about twenty came into view, all with the same dirty travel cloaks and face obscuring dust filters. The black lenses kept peering out, some scrambling up the boulder while others reloaded a small arsenal of weapons. One abruptly dropped back down right in front of her, and before she knew what she was doing, her hand shot out and jabbed the two taser prongs right in the figure's thigh. A hiss came out and the figure went down, then all of the goggles turned her way. Weapons rose in the next instant as a scream escaped her throat, the impassioned wail of someone left alone, utterly and completely alone at the final end, and then-

"_Don't touch her, you meanies!_"

Heads jerked up just in time to get smacked back down as a trio of stungun bolts pinned six of the masked marauders to the ground. Another one went down as a dropping Thompson clotheslined them as she landed, then the rest of the cluster dropped as they got pegged across the head by the barrel of a swung stungun. The nearby scoundrels dealt with, the emptied stungun took out a few more, literally, when the built up momentum from the roundhouse swing suddenly found itself no longer being curved via a powerful grip- The gun zoomed off out of view, taking the two who had the misfortune to be in the way along for the ride. Of course, all actions produce a reaction, and the sailing stungun sent a tumbling Thompson the other way.

The group, having rapidly decided which lady posed the bigger threat, began to pepper her path with hot lead. The bullets went where intended, but their target was missing when they got there- having used her other weapon as an impromptu pole vault, she shoved off with one arm first and the gun second. The next cluster went down in another clothesline/gun sweep combo, and everyone sidestepped in anticipation of a hearty chuck sending them halfway across the summit. The move proved to be wasted, when instead of turning into another projectile the silver cross clanked open and spat a long streaming arc of goo over the remaining few mercenaries. Most tried to wipe it off right away, but only managed to get themselves completely stuck in the stuff. Others tried to fire, but found that having gunk covering their guns kept them from working.

Of course, one of them just _had_ to have a rocket launcher. The backwash blew a huge bubble in the goo, but it didn't stop it from launching right at the solid rock wall next to her savior. Instead of making a dive for safety- what little there was to be had -she jumped _into_ the rocket's path, pulled off her duster, held it right in front of the oncoming explosive, and yanked the whole thing sideways. The rocket zipped back out of the makeshift sling, now heading up and away to drop well over the cliff edge. The one who had fired the rocket let the launcher slip through their fingers, and soon joined the dropped weapon on the ground. The entire thing has taken only a few seconds to play out.

Milly promptly forgot all about the bounty hunter group as she rushed to her side, questions coming out at full babble. "Are you okay Lina? Did they hurt you? Rob you? Take your pudding! Ooh, they seemed just mean enough to take someone's pudding, yes indeed..."

Whatever else Milly said was lost to her as she gaped at the big girl. She had seen people get worked up into a good rage before, usually with the help of a few bad drinks, but what under the twin suns had _that_ been? It wasn't like anything she'd seen before, and how could it move so smoothly from complete asskicking into concerned doting? Just to top things off, why did it feel so frustratingly familiar?

"Get down!"

Line suddenly found herself flattened against the ground as Milly shielded them both from some bullets with the cross. It clanked open again, this time discharging a large net that tangled up the next three attackers. Milly rolled them out from under the bounder's shade, and it was back to finding a good hiding spot. This time, though, she had someone watching out for her.

¤ ¤ ¤

Right about the very peak of the mountain, the main focus of all the fireworks was dancing his way through the onslaught. He could have been doing much better, but had to split his focus between the battle and bro. Once he got a good feel of what was happening further down the slope, he very quickly figured out how to yell telepathically and put the newfound skill to use. After all, the sort of skills required for the mass slaughter going on had been directed at him on quite a few occasions- it was the trademark of the Gung-ho Guns. He had assumed that all of them had died once Legato himself had forced a confrontation, but it appeared that he had been dead wrong about that. He had too much to handle to deal with the Gung-ho Guns as well- he needed another option, so he was now /yelling/ his head off at Knives to call them back. Things hadn't gone very well thus far.

_"/Of course they can. The agreement was that I not kill anyone, and I have upheld it completely. What my Gung-ho Guns do to fulfill my objectives is entirely up to them./"_

"/They're killing hundreds! You knew this is what would happen, and that makes you responsible/"

"/They could have chosen to engage them in a non-lethal manner, but they've chosen to be more efficient instead. Humanity gravitates towards the greatest destruction unless you force them to do otherwise./"

"/You don't know them at all, you've been on your own all this time so you never learned anything about humanity/"

"/Ah, but you're wrong there. I've had my Gung-ho Guns, and they're quite human for the most part. However, I'm inclined to agree with you about not being around them enough./"

"/So you admit that you don't know enough/"

"/Yes. Being among humans has taught you how to fight in a way I couldn't match. Lessons carved right into your body... I've had to play catch-up these last few months, irritating as it ...as. I think ...at y.../"

"/Knives? What's happening? I can hardly hear you/"

Knives came back in, though this time he was having to /yell/ too. _"/Range problems. I'll contact you again once I've obtained some... insurance against undesirable possibilities./"_

The link cut off, leaving him alone aside from his thoughts and a few dozen bullets every second. Range issues meant that Knives wasn't anywhere close by, and thus wouldn't be able to call off the Gung-ho Guns, but why had he gone off in the first place? What sort of 'undesirable possibilities' were so urgent that bro would run off right in the middle of a titanic clash? He had to figure it out, and quickly, before anyone else got hurt. Man, why did he have to get stuck in the crossfire? He needed a moment of calm to think, or someone else to do the thinking for him. If only- Oh. Oh hell. 

He had to end this, _right now_. There wasn't any time to spare if he was going to catch Knives. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and a _very_ desperate idea began to form. The entire area was littered with spent bullets, and more were arriving by the moment. He could use those, and if he boosted up along with 'it', then maybe... He'd pulled some crazy stunts, but this next one would probably just about top them all. He sent the command, but only so far as to trigger its internal power generation. He was supposed to supplement it, but this time he needed it to supplement him. Time for a little hocus-pocus...

The bounty hunters around him saw a window of opportunity when he stopped in his tracks, and really let loose a barrage at his still form. When he didn't collapse after several seconds of nonstop fire, they toned it down and took shelter, expecting a retaliation of considerable proportions any second. They were definitely going to get something, all right... The bullets that he had slung into the air were soon joined by countless numbers of their brethren on the ground, twisting and turning along the magnetic field lines. With so much metal in the field, he could sense the building currents and the slight yet growing smell of ozone. It started with a few crackles, then a pop or two. The charges built up further, until they were so great that they bridged the gaps between the circling bullets. The transfers cascaded, finally giving him the effect he wanted. The sounds of gunfire died down all across the mountain as everyone's attention became focused his way. He took off his glasses and scanned the whole crowd, letting everyone get a good look. He then took a deep breath, and /shouted/ as loudly as he could, which was pretty darn loud considering what he was hooked into.

"_Go!_"

Now, there are times when commands are ignored. Sometimes people won't take them seriously, or they think they know better, or they just plain brush you off. However, when a hundred yarz high tornado of lightning and thunder, flaring brighter than the twin suns, formed around someone rumored to be the devil himself, bellows that you should be elsewhere, _you goddamn listen_. A few hesitated for a moment, but once they saw that everyone else was skedaddling as fast as their legs could move they vamoosed with the best of them. The summit was clear in moments, and the slopes emptied out soon after. He reigned the power in, and let the whirlwind drop as he fell to one knee. _"I could sleep for a week..."_

Unfortunately, he didn't have a week free. He pulled himself back up and started to trudge down the slope when one of the Gung-ho Guns popped in front of him.

"Aw man, I really don't have time for this... Could you take an IOU or something? I gotta go see bro and don't have time for a proper introduction."

She smiled back at him. "Oh, but we already know each other and the master doesn't want us to fight you. Now now, anyway. Just as well, it's quite a pain finding a good host and settling in."

"Er, yeah, whatever. Well, if you're not here to fight, then why don't you get out of the way?"

"Because the master wishes to be undisturbed."

"Well, tough. So you're just here to slow me down?"

"No, that's his job."

She motioned behind him just as he felt a sting on his neck. He tried to look back, but the ground decided to be funny and turned itself sideways. Things began to get blurry as he tugged something out of his neck. How quaint, an all-plastic tranquilizer dart... A seductive voice broke in, whispering into his ear.

"Now don't you listen to that little hoochee, I'm more a lady than Zazie will ever be. It's been fun Vashy-poo, but since the battle is won we need to be going. Why don't you look me up sometime? Later..."

¤ ¤ ¤

Sometime later, a groggy wake-up occurred due to a bit of especially rough bouncing. A moment of wakeful confusion was soon replaced with full-born alertness once it was confirmed that this was _not_ where she had fallen asleep- as if it would have been possible to fall asleep with all the bucking and bouncing the motorcycle sidecar was doing. It was as if whoever was driving was driving like a maniac. One glance over showed otherwise- it wasn't someone driving like a maniac, it was just a plain old maniac who happened to be driving.

"Awake already? Tsk, you're quite the handful."

"You don't know the half of it. What's going on? Where's Vash?"

"Brother is fine, and the rest is irrelevant. Now sit quietly."

"Of all the nerve! I'll have you know that... What's going on here!"

The finger she had tried to bring up to poke in the officious plant's chest wasn't getting anywhere. That was because the finger was connected to the hand, the hand connected to the wrist, and the wrist handcuffed to the motorcycle sidecar. She was sick and tired of the blasted things, and Knives was _so_ going to get it now. Just before she could really let loose on him, another wave of exhaustion came over her.

"Damn... you..."

"Quite impossible. Oh, and I do believe-" He reached down and pulled something from her as she struggled to keep her eyelids from closing. "-that this is mine."

The last thing she saw was the sickly sweet grin on his face as he tucked away the gun.

* * *

Another chapter, and everything went right to hell! Just about everyone, too, except for 'Zazie'. Turns out we had the wrong soul all along, so we had to send him upstairs... Now to worry, we have plenty of newcomers!

Bounty Hunter Horde: This sucks!

Legato: ¤is laughing manically and waving around a giant foam 'Evil is #1' hand¤

Wolfwood: ...

Ugh, it's way too crowded here.

Legato: I can remedy that... Midvalley, some moshing music if you please?

Midvalley: How is that supposed to help? The mosh pit is way too small.

Legato: Only a matter of correct... packing.

Midvalley: Oh, gotcha. ¤strikes up a song¤

Legato: ¤does the moshing¤

Well, that solves that, if in a rather disgusting way.

Moshed Bounty Hunter Horde: This sucks even more!

Quiet. I need to get on with the...

**Reviewer Responses**

betsytheripper: Action, with a side of action. You should be full by now, and we had the wrong Zazie down here- t'was just a little kid after all. Now I feel bad about all that suffering and stuff, especially amateur karoke night...

cjflutterbye: No more Knives groupies, just some killing machines now. I'm guessing this leaves Knives as a wallflower, so go at 'em! And it was only two weeks, so nyah!

hope-is-4ever: ¤apologizes profusely for all the sad and horrible things¤

Yma: Sadly, with such buildup I may have set myself up for a fall in the actual fight. I think it's suitably dramatic, but who's to say?

The Mad Fangirl: You spotted it! Free pie! Elendira the Crimsonnail is around, among others. Jolly good time!

* * *

Next time: The chase is on, but will Vash catch up in time? Will the Gung-ho Guns cause more trouble? And what interest does Knives have in Meryl? Find out next time, on Trigunball Z! 


	34. Chapter 32: Aftermath

Whew, had more happen in the past two months than I've had happen in quite some time. Notables include home ownership (yay?), severe flu (boo!), boosted workload (boo!), and more remodeling than you can shake a two by four at (can't exclaim, need sleep...). Suffice to say, writing time has been a tad limited.

Disclaimer: Please keep your hands and feet inside the tram at all times, or the psychopath will add them to his collection.

Disclaimer's bigger, meaner sibling: Things are nasty in this one. Parental guidance recommended.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars

Chapter 32: Aftermath

There was an eerie silence across the mountain. Not a true silence, mind you, as there were some sounds. But these sounds were not of living things. The whistling and moaning winds, the clack and clatter of falling pebbles, those were the sounds of the aftermath. The mountain had become a place for the dead, their lives cut short by malevolent hands. It was into this blighted land Roy walked, eyes sweeping over the bodies, seeking a certain face with near desperate urgency yet hoping not to see it with a grim caricature of death drawn across it.

He wasn't alone. There were others with him, moving up the mountain slowly. They could go no faster- they had to check every body, to try and find any that hadn't quite lost the spark of life. If one was found, there would be a shout and a flurry of action as the closest medic would zip over to coax the spark back into a bright glow. That knowledge just made the not-quite-silence all the worse, for it meant that death's scythe hadn't missed a single mark.

He would look up from time to time but just as quickly looked back down. The entire way ahead was speckled with crimson, dark and foreboding, at times forming short streams before the parched ground sucked it in, at other times pooling upon solid rock. The corpseweeds wasted no time with such a bounty- the tips were already starting to protrude, and he carefully avoided stepping on them. No need to gain more bad luck today.

Seemingly years later, he finally spotted something. He broke the line as he rushed up to check it. The polished barrels of the stungun laid across two bodies, neither hers. He glanced around as he hefted its empty weight, expecting to see her sprawled out nearby- she never let her stungun get far from her.

A sudden rasping wheeze came from his feet, echoing once about the slope. The noise of something _alive_ was so sudden he nearly dropped the gun right back on top of the people it had pinned down. Faces looked up from all across the search line, a profound relief spreading faster than sand in a storm. One of the prone forms rose to a sitting position and began grappling with the mask they wore. He helped it off, revealing a man haunted by what he had seen. He looked up unsteadily, squinting heavily in the light as his gaze wandered. It eventually fell upon the other fellow that had been trapped under the gun's weight, and he began to pull at the other's dust mask. A medic ran up ran up and began to check them both over, meaning he could go back to looking. Sparing a glance upwards, he could see the red splatters ended a little further up, and beyond that someone walking around. The person was nobody he knew, but just knowing there were more living yet to be found raised some rather dismal spirits.

¤ ¤ ¤

In a shallow bowl a little below the peak, Brilliant Dynamites Neon was working up a good angry rage. What had started out as a good day had quickly gone downhill. First, the Cavalry had obscured most of the opening act with their little attempt at snatching the stage, but that was just part of the play- you had to be able to ad-lib when things didn't go by the script, and that was a mark of the showman. All in all, nothing he couldn't work with. Then Knives had brought in some real performers. That one hurt- they stole the spotlight and kept him in the dark, and that was something _nobody_ did. He had expressed his displeasure by pumping a full clip into the back of one of the big things that had come clawing their way out of the ground, but all it resulted in was a backhand slap that left him with a pretty good bruise across the face. It stung something fierce, but his pride hurt more. They had added insult to injury by completely ignoring him afterward. Even when he brought out his big noisemakers they ignored him. That just made the current situation that much more galling- one of the big things was still here, standing just across the bowl, sparks still flying from the remnants of the 'arm' he had blown off.

Yeah, that pissed him off quite thoroughly. He had gone through all his ammo save for the last clip in his little shinys, and considering that the thing was either all metal or nearly so meant he couldn't do one damn thing more to it. Whatever it was knew that too, and even lacking a true face he could practically see it smirking. That was the third insult of the day- it had just been standing there, right across from where he sat, doing a whole lot of nothing while it sparked and he fumed. That brought him to the fourth reason for him to get a good rage brewing- what the mechanical monster and him were both watching over. It also just happened to be the guy he was supposed to do the grand finale with. Vash was keeled over in the very center of the bowl, sleeping like an overgrown baby. They were supposed to be finishing things, but no, the Humanoid Typhoon just _had_ to get some beauty sleep. He couldn't even give the red-swathed dolt a wakeup knock, because the one thing that did get a reaction out of "Reasons to be Pissed #3" was approaching Vash. It just swung that big arm around to block any attempt to get closer to the snoring idiot.

Thus, he was steaming while it was sparking, and neither of them had been doing much for nearly an hour. A few of the bounty hunters had woken up and stumbled across them, but turned tail and fled. He should have shot the damn cowards in the back, but he needed to save what ammo he had left, and he certainly didn't need any more corpses lying about contributing to the stink. The day stunk enough already. Suddenly, the thing's demeanor changed from confident to cautious, and he caught sight of a new shadow across the bowl. He waved without bothering to turn around as Rai-Dei walked down. The samurai stopped beside him and looked across at the machine-man.

"Gray the Ninelives."

The name hovered there, not quite leading to anything. The now named machine seemed indifferent, if anything. It made him wonder if it could talk at all. In any case, it seemed there was little to say or do... and come to think of it, two could play the "I don't care about you" game. He laid back and squinted at Rai-Dei out of one eye.

"If anything happens, scream or something. I'm taking a nap."

And having said as much, he did.

¤ ¤ ¤

He stirred slightly, and instantly regretted it. Moving had spooked a Thomas that had somehow lodged itself in his head, and what now bashing against his skull to try and get out. He groaned and brought a hand up to calm it down, but found that he couldn't stick a hand in his own head. Rather unfair that a Thomas could find its way in but his hand couldn't...

"Mr. Vash!"

He groaned again. "Not now Milly, Mr. Vash has a hangover."

"But I can't find Meryl anywhere!"

"Probably went to powder her nose in the ladies room..."

"I can't find Mr. Knives either!"

Really now, did she have to shout everything at him? It was scaring the Thomas even more, and it wasn't like they were fighting or... anything...

He jolted upright as the memories finally came to him. He mentally shoved aside the pain and began to /look/ for Meryl and his brother, but couldn't find a trace of either. He staggered to his feet and took a few strides forward before he tripped over a rock in the dark and fell down flat. He scrambled back up and was about to set out again, when he realized he didn't have a clue as to which way to go. Knives could disappear when he wanted to, and tracking him down would be next to impossible without being able to look for signs of which way he had left... Come to think of it, why was it dark?

"Milly, what time is it?"

"I'm not quite sure, but I think it's around three o'clock."

It was three o'clock? But it was way too dark for it to be... _"Oh no..."_

"I've been out all day, haven't I?" He dropped his head into has hand and rubbed at the throbbing pain. The battle had started at sunup yesterday, and even with a few delays it couldn't have been much past seven when Knives left communication range... That meant Knives had nearly a full day's head start. The trail was definitely way past cold by now. He sagged down, still clutching his head. _Everything_ had gone wrong. Knives was gone, Meryl was gone, hundreds had died, and he had let two of his brother's minions right in without suspecting a thing. Good lord, he had blown it royally this time. He never should have taken Knives back to the girls, he never should have voiced his true feelings towards Meryl, he never should have trusted anyone that hung around Knives...

His brooding was cut short when Milly hesitantly began talking to him. "We tried to wake you earlier, but Mr. Gray wouldn't let anyone near you..."

_"The Ninelives."_ He had never directly met that particular Gung-Ho Gun, since Wolfwood dealt with him up in Sky City. He had seen the remains, but evidently Ninelives' name was to be taken literally- including the one destroyed in Sky City, that totaled eight of the destruction machines he could account for. The thus far unseen ninth likely held a whole new bag of tricks he'd have to deal with when the time came, and that time would likely come sooner rather than later- to get to Meryl, he'd have to get to Knives, and to get to Knives he'd have to go through all his underlings just like before. That was probably why one of the Ninelives' lives had stayed- Bro had undoubtedly left him a signpost, and it was just like him to use someone for that purpose when an actual signpost could have done just as well.

"Where is Gray the Ninelives?"

Milly looked to the side. Just as he turned a pair of inhuman eyes lit up like the twin suns and bore down on them both. Milly stumbled back a bit in the sudden glare, but he was in no mood for little psychological tricks- not that glowing eyes would impress him one bit. He brought his gun up slowly and asked the question.

"Where's Knives?"

Gray stood there motionless.

"Tell me where Knives is!"

After a few seconds, Gray began to move. There was a good deal of creaking as it slowly dropped to one knee, then the one arm still on this form of Gray poked a finger into the ground and began to drag it through the stone. It lifted it one once, then set it back in to break through more rock. Once Gray was done, it looked down and illuminated its answer, carved into the very rock itself.

"NO"

Well, this minion wasn't one to waste words. He doubted he'd be able to get much of anything out of it if this was how it talked. He'd have to be careful in what he asked it- both not to reveal too much of his thoughts, but also in order to get answers short enough for it to inscribe. Now, what was the best way to approach this...

"Mr. Gray, what does Mr. Knives want us to do?"

_"Great, nice going Milly."_ He about slapped himself. Of all the...

More cracking noises brought his attention back to Ninelives. It was writing its answer into the ground, this time engraving four letters in one short word.

"WAIT"

Well, that was simple enough, though troubling. If Knives wanted them to wait, then that meant he was preparing something and didn't want to be disturbed. He knew from grim experience that whatever was being prepared wouldn't be something he'd like. It also meant that taking Meryl must have been a part of Knives' plan. Knives had known full well that he could extract whatever information he needed from anyone left behind, so that meant Meryl was Knives' insurance that he actually waited. Bro had picked up a sick sense of humor for a pun like that... Of course, human life meant nothing to Knives- bro probably thought the whole thing was a light joke. He certainly wasn't laughing.

"Fine. Now you wait right there until you have something more to say." He turned and walked up the slope, out of the bowl, towards some flickering firelight. He was entirely capable of waiting however long it took. The only question was whether Meryl would last in Knives' clutches. One thing was quite certain- if Knives had harmed Meryl in any way, then brother would find out just how deadly a real typhoon could be.

¤ ¤ ¤

What a day. Lina wanted to put a little more description than that into it, but it was hard to think. Her head had been buzzing all day and well into the night. It was hard to recall anything from earlier. Whenever she tried, disjoined images flashed through her mind. Masked faced, snarls of rage, shouts, screaming, a whirlwind, running figures, still figures... and crimson being painted, spilled, stagnating... And digging. A lot of digging, in hard stony ground. Just dig down a few feet then dig across as long as you could, there wasn't any time to think when you were digging, and that was good. She hadn't wanted to think of what was going on behind, in the already dug hole, of the soft lone murmuring voice that could be heard between the strikes of shovels and pickaxes. Just focusing on the dirt got her through the day, but her arms failed her sometime past dusk. That was when the memories began to surface.

Sometimes they would come in sequence, but mostly they came at random. She was, in turns, crying, quivering, and giggling like crazy. This would have been mortifying if not for the fact that quite a few others were acting just the same, scattered loosely among the various fires that dotted the summit. It was a crazy mixture of people now- it had started out with the Cavalry, soon joined by various surviving bounty hunters, and towards sundown infused with armored figures with a love for neon lights. It was a situation ripe for conflict, but none came. There was simply too much that had to be done, so differences were overlooked- an unspoken truce. They had to finish the digging. Even now she could hear them, the rhythmic ring of iron against stone oddly calming. Then there was the soft crunching of a pair of boots on the ground, heading her way. She looked up. A familiar face cracked an apologetic smile at her.

"Seen the elephant, I take it?"

"What's an elephant?"

Her voice surprised her. It sounded like she had grown old and grey in just a few hours. Roy shook his head and patted her on the shoulder.

"It's what the old timers always said to the new folks who joined the Cavalry, right after their first battle. I don't know what an elephant is myself, but I think it's something very scary the first time you see it. Then I think it's not so bad and kinda nice once you know it, or at least not so scary, or maybe it's just not a surprise anymore. Either way, the second time you see one is never as bad as that first time, because you know what you're facing. Battle is the same way, though I rather wish it wasn't. Maybe if it was always so horrible, people would be more keen to sit down and talk rather than fight."

She mulled it while staring into the fire. Yeah, that was some of it, but...

"There's more than just that... I also found out other things, I didn't want to know. I... I don't think I have any family anymore... I'm all a- a- alone..." She stared down at her feet, and the first sob of many began to work its way up. That was when the gentle touch on her shoulder abruptly turned into a viselike grip that spun her around. Roy looked her right in the eye, his expression so intense she froze completely, yet barren of anger. Not even the slightest hint of annoyance was in his face, just a twinge of sorrow, if anything.

"That's a load of manure if I ever heard one, and being a farmboy I know what that sounds like from twenty iles off. First, you _do_ have family, and he's right over there, not two hundred yarz off!"

"But-"

"But nothing. Once you have family, they stay family, no matter what. Sometimes you learn things you wish you hadn't, and you'll have lots of disagreements, but you'll still be family. Can you tell me the exact moment when he first became your brother? ...Thought so. You can't because there never was any moment. It simply _is_. You can ignore it, or run away from it, but you'll never be able to break that bond of family. It's more powerful than death, and one of the greatest things we have in life, so don't think about it and just _go_ to your brother."

Next thing she knew, her head was leaning on a shoulder beneath a red coat. She recalled an impassioned speech from the senior Thompson, and the next vivid moment was right here, next to Vash the Stampede. The Humanoid Typhoon, wanted for sixty billion double dollars, leveler of two cities, and able to give a moon a black eye. Also, somehow, her brother. What a crazy, absurd, ridiculous, and generally mixed up world she lived in.

¤ ¤ ¤

There is a place between sleep and the waking world where both overlap. In this place, nothing is as it seems, as both realms have sway over the person between them, and the mind is still dulled. Too much sleep can make a person become stuck in this state, as the body will only take so much rest before everything that can be refreshed is as good as it can be, and true sleep becomes impossible. This is a good sign that it is time to wake up and start the day. However, in the case of one Meryl Stryfe, there would be no waking until _he_ decided it was time to wake. There was a dim sense that they had finished traveling, but that was it.

Then, quite abruptly, the fog that had been forced into on her mind was lifted. She came to rapidly, spurred along by the throbbing in her shoulder. The lighting in the room was dim, coming as is was from a single emergency light, and it left the corners in darkness. It was enough to tell that she had been left in a bathroom, which was somewhat fortunate in that she urgently had to use the facilities. That done, she began to take stock of the situation and what was available to her, which wasn't much. The light was a clear indication that this was a ship, though there was no telling just where she was inside of it. The room itself was small and sparse- the only items there looked to have been left recently, for her use. A towel, some soap, a washcloth, a filled bathtub, and a notepad left on the sink, one short command written on it- "Clean yourself."

She debated ignoring it, but there were two problems with that. First, Knives might just do it himself if she didn't, and awkward would hardly begin describe it. Second, one look in the mirror showed that she was still splattered with bits of blown up bounty hunter, and just having it on her was nauseating. Obstinance would have to wait until later, for cleanliness was the order of the day. A few minutes later the armor laid in a neat pile by the tub, and the survival suit was being given a critical examination. Considering all it had been through, it was in amazing shape. A washing would probably fix it up almost as good as new with the exception of its left leg, which had several nasty pieces of shrapnel lodged in the fabric. However, the light flexible material hadn't let a single fragment through, despite several impacts of such force that she couldn't pull the metal back out- all in an area _without_ the extra armor. There was only one part she couldn't check, and that was doubtlessly because Knives had removed it before dumping her here. As if a taser could harm him- from what she knew of plants, a few thousand volts would barely tickle.

Having established that she wasn't slowly bleeding to death from an unnoticed wound, she tested the bathwater and grimaced. It was absolutely frigid. Blast Knives, a hot bath was evidently too pampered an amenity for her bruised and aching form. If he was going to make it freezing, he should have gone with just a bucket instead of an entire tub's worth. It wasn't like she needed a whole tub- water was still too costly for actual baths across most of the planet, so she made do with just soap and a sponge. At least she could dunk her head to get the dried blood off her face and out of her hair. She finished quickly, only to find that Knives had bungled on another detail- no change of clothes, though the towel was large enough for modesty. At least she still had the survival suit, and since it didn't seem to absorb water at all, a little dip in the bathtub might get it acceptably clean. In it went, and now she just had to wait.

A quick inspection revealed no methods of exit other than the door, which was quite stubbornly immobile. She plopped down on the edge of the tub and propped her head up with one arm. Her gaze wandered between the dark corners of the room while her other hand began to drum on the side of the tub. A slight feeling of dread began to spread through her. Something was nagging at her, and there was a certain familiarity about the room. Her gaze became uneasy, and the tension made her huddle in until the shifting caused her nails to strike the tub. The short clicks brought back an experience that felt like a lifetime ago, but had occurred only a month ago at best. The small room, the single unchangeable light, the _door_... This wasn't a bathroom, it was another damn jail cell! A chill came over her, and she began to wring her hands together. She had been getting the most atrocious luck lately...

As her fingers wiggled in unfocused worry, they brushed against something that gave her pause. Bringing her hand up, she stared at her wedding ring. It shined quite well for what light there was, and the glimmer, slight as it was, made the closing in walls rebound. Vash was right here with her, in spirit if not in body. He'd come for her, and he'd beaten Knives once so he could do it again, plus Knives was potentially still not fully recovered from their last fight. The odds were against Knives, so why had he restarted things now? What was the advantage that made him so confident of success?

It didn't take long to figure out. It wasn't _what_ the advantage was, it was _who_, and she could see the who of the matter in the mirror. The dread returned. As long as Knives held her, Vash wouldn't be able to lift a finger, but she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't stand by if Knives moved against humanity again. That meant her life was in grave danger, and her well being even more so. Yet despite the hovering sword over her head, her concerns all ended up focused on Vash. She was irreplaceable in his mind, so anything that happened to her would end up tearing him apart, even long after she was gone. She couldn't have that. Her hand reached over and snatched up the pad of paper and the pen underneath, and she began to jot down what came to her. In case the worst happened, he would need this.

The door suddenly screeched and shifted slightly. She grabbed the note and frantically looked for a place to hide it. It would have to be someplace Knives wouldn't look, but Vash would... Yet where would a megalomaniac human hater not look, but a doughnut scarfing ambassador of peace and love would look? The door groaned and began to open, so she grimaced, rolled up the note, and stuck it down her cleavage. It was quite a needlenoggined idea, but the only one she could come up with on such short notice. A hand appeared, and shoved the door the rest of the way open. She crossed her arms and glared at Knives as he stood in the doorway.

"Come with me."

"I'm not done yet, my suit is-"

"_Now_."

"I won't traipse about in nothing but a towel!"

"I do not care what your state of dress is. Now, you can either walk, or I will drag you by your _injured_ shoulder."

"Fine! I'll walk. So where are we going?"

He didn't answer, instead turning and striding down the corridor, leaving her to scramble to keep up. He led her on a convoluted route through the ship, though from the looks of things it wasn't just to confuse her. The only lights were the same dull red emergency beacons, and the passages were strewn with debris. Panels hung at odd angles, there were collapses in some side passages, and scorch marks were evident everywhere. This ship had come down hard. It didn't take long for them to reach a cavernous room, the main feature of which was a large plant bulb sunk partway into the floor. A nest of cables sprouted from the top, but some of the twined lines looked decidedly out of place- mostly for how they didn't extend up and into the roof, but dropped down and led to some equipment by the bulb. It looked like someone had jury-rigged a medical bay in an engineering section, probably because they couldn't get any energy elsewhere in the ship.

While she was paused just inside the room, Knives had continued onward. He stopped and turned slightly, catching her in the gaze of one ice cold eye. She was getting a very bad feeling about this...

"Are you hiding something from me?"

Knives' voice had a dangerous edge to it, and suddenly she /felt/ him probing her mind. She slammed up the walls as Vash had taught her, but she was a bit too late to prevent him from finding out about some parts. He smiled in that sickly, twisted way of his.

"Ah, a note to brother? An important one too, and not meant for me to see? What could be so important, I wonder? Why don't you be a good spider, and turn it over. _/Your mental defenses are merely annoyances, so you should save me the trouble of breaking them down./_"

He had her and he knew it. Cheeks burning, she pulled the note out and shoved it into his outstretched hand. She shifted uneasily on her feet as he unrolled it and scanned the lines. Then he surprised her- by laughing. Not an ominous chuckle, or a crazed outburst, but a simple hearty laugh, as if he had just read an incredibly funny joke. It took her a few seconds to process it- Million Knives _never_ laughed like that. Now she was well confused. He tossed aside the note and settled down shortly, but retained an actual grin.

"Oh, you silly creature! You're so far off the mark you hit a different target entirely. You are perfectly safe, a rather unique status for one of your kind. If I wanted a hostage, I'd have taken someone else."

Knives' statement gradually sank in, but it only added to her confusion. "If I'm the only one you _won't_ use like that, then _why the hell did you take me_?"

"Because brother chose you. When I decided to crash the ships, I meant to let Vash take along his favorite to keep him company while we made our Eden. I actually had one too, but he proved flawed, just like the rest of your pathetic race. Still, because he had been such a help, I granted him a quick death. However, Vash's favorite ran off and died, and he never fully recovered from the loss. This time, I intend to see to it that his favorite will live, though let me assure you that I can make your life supremely painful if you try and use your status to oppose me. However, such a grace does come with a price, and because brother is who he is, you will have to pay it. I took you to insure it."

"I don't understand... What do you want with me?"

"You have absolutely nothing I want. As it is with you spiders, I am simply going to remove the worst and hope the remainder is tolerable."

A chill went down her spine as her eyes darted around the room again. The brightly lit and functional medical equipment took on an ominous note. "You took me because Vash would have never agreed to what you're planning..."

"Precisely. In his ignorance, he thinks your kind can be trusted, but I am not so unwise. To insure one of you does not do something, it must be made impossible for you to do. Now go lay down on the table."

Oh, like she would go and do that after hearing his scheme. While he rooted through a drawer, she rapidly backed away, hopefully to where the exit should be. Once in the passageways, maybe she could lose him in the maze... He glanced up at her. "Tsk, being difficult already?"

He abruptly vanished. Just as her eyes widened in shock at his disappearance, white hot pain ripped through her back. She collapsed into his arms, as her suddenly unresponsive body twitched about uselessly. _"So that's where the taser went..."_

He hauled her over to the operating table, casually flipped her on it, and began to secure her limbs in place. She tried to struggle, but between the aftereffect of the shock and Knives' own incredible strength, her efforts were ineffective. She could only stare at the top of the plant bulb, only a few yarz distant, and an overhead light while all the bindings were tightened. He snapped on the light then came around to her head. He propped it up so she was now staring down her illuminated length and into the bulb. A reflected beam of light caught him in the eye, and he glared down at the offending piece of metal. He grabbed her hand, and with a bit of tugging pulled the ring off. He spun it around in his grasp.

"Marriage... To one of _you_... I still can't believe it. You aren't worthy of this, so I'll give it to someone who is."

His words stung, but she bit her tongue. Anything she said would be worse than useless, so she just watched as he walked to the bulb and placed a hand on it. The core rippled and unfolded as the plant angel emerged. The form drifted close to the bulb wall, looking listless and... sad? She was too troubled to put names to her own emotions, let alone those experienced by something else entirely. Her ring dropped down from the hand he had pressed on the bulb, slowly sliding down the _inside_ of the curved barrier. That was wrong- he couldn't just go and do that...

He came back and brought up a number of panels. One was a screen of text, another was a standard life function monitor, and others just appeared to be for holding the implements he brought over. "I'll need you to provide feedback as I work, as human anatomy is not a subject I've studied in much depth. Nothing complicated, just indicate if you feel anything unusual occur."

He shifted the towel up and to the side, out of the way, then swabbed down the exposed skin. He couldn't be that cruel... He wouldn't make her watch...

"I don't want to see..." Her voice was quivering. Tears began to track down her face.

"Just stop it!" He ignored her and selected a scalpel. He checked the text, then focused on her body.

"No, please..." She could barely whisper. The blade came down and began to cut.

"Please..."

* * *

¤rioters storm through the streets¤ Hmm... the weekly riot seems especially vigorous this time. Wolfwood, what did you tell them?

Wolfwood: Oh, I just showed them the horror you're orchestrating back in the living realm, nothing much.

Ah, I was wondering why they were brandishing rusty sporks while chanting "Pluck out his eyeballs!"

Wolfwood: Yeah, you just made yourself real popular. Too bad I couldn't bring my cross down here, I can't properly express my ire towards you without live ammo.

Pity, that.

**Reviewer Responses**

hope-is-4ever: Horrible things, indeed- and it's still on a cliffhanger. Next chapter won't have a cliffhanger, or at least a much subdued one.

Blu: OW! ...you hurt my widdle head... And E.G. Mine is stuck down here with me- the definitely not-dead GhGs now include Zazie (yes, as the magna chick), Elendira, and Gray (though I've twisted the ol' midget carrier/robot into yet another form, different from both anime and magna).

betsytheripper: Glad the action was perky, and that visual is a bit tricky- try tilting the head back, and the line should become more obvious. Probably more painful, too. Elendira is _not_ a nice person.

cjflutterbye: Dear me, I've made you wait way too long. That nyah obviously came back and bit me in the rear. Knives isn't exactly being the nicest of people right now, is he?

Baz: New person! ¤latches on like a leech¤

kitsune: Woah, I induced all that? Hmm, perhaps it's not so bad I've had a rash of slow updates, too much exposure to my work may cause endorphin shock.

Yma: I would have liked to include the Doublefang as well, but when I started I simply had no information on him, and I still don't have enough to adequately portray someone who's become a rather complex character. Elendira was a bit of a stretch, luckily more information became available as I wrote the sections that didn't deal with him/her. And here's a helpful visual equivalent of how Knives will be developed according to The Plan. ¤holds up a piece of Rigatoni¤

Zen Bohemian: Another new person! I will counter your assertion by saying that Wolfwood is no ordinary priest. Plus he seems to be sneaking out on occasion.

* * *

Next Chapter: Vash finally learns where Knives ran off to, and sets out in fast pursuit. But will he catch Knives? Are the Gung-ho Guns going to get in his way? And what happens to Meryl? There's only one way to find out, and you won't want to miss it! 


	35. Chapter 33: Unsanctified Vicissitude

Woah! Quite the reaction to last chapter's cliffhanger. You wanted a next chapter, so you get a next chapter.

Disclaimer: Abandon all hope, ye who pass into this chapter.

* * *

_Filiolus partum in suum imago. Quis est imago e malum deus?_

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars

Chapter 33: Unsanctified Vicissitude

The suns rose. Twice a turn ago, they rose upon a scene of merriment. Once a turn ago, they rose upon a scene of conflict. Now, they rose upon a scene of finality. As the mountain was lit, each and every bump, knoll, and even pebble was thrown into stark relief, their shadows extending onward as far as the eye could trace. In the brief moments of the rising lights, anything could take on an importance far beyond what it would achieve at any other time. However, there were only an elect few objects that truly stood out that morning. They stood, driven into the ground in rows, each one silently declaring a simple message.

_"May thee who rest here, rest in peace."_

¤ ¤ ¤

It was hard work, and getting harder as the day wore on. Not the good kind of hard that made you sweaty and a bit smelly and all achy in the muscles, or the boring kind of hard that made you twitchy and prone to daydream, but a third kind. This kind of hard was making her tired, very tired, more tired that she could ever recall being. At least everyone had been so helpful- doing all the digging and placement before she got there, and filling in behind right away, not to mention all the drinks of water that let her keep speaking. It wasn't all that much, really, just a short verse, but she had to say it over and over again.

She also added in one thing extra. There was nothing that called for it, but with so little time and no idea who most of them were, she felt it was important. She would cry one tear and let it fall upon the body. That way, maybe they really would have a nice peaceful rest, knowing that there was at least one person who cared enough to miss them. That alone was really hard, but it was certainly worth the effort. Besides, she had no shortage of tears, and this was the last one. The drop fell, and she stood back while the nice men shoveled.

She just stood there for a moment, grappling with what to do next. The midday heat wasn't helping her think. She ought to go check on Lina, but she had already sent big big brother to look after her, and Roy was very good at talking to people, probably better than she was with this sort of thing. Mr. Vash would need someone to talk with, if only to let off a little steam. He had been so shaken up last night, for good reason- Mr. Knives had run off with Meryl and nobody had found out until it was much too late. And then there was that- Meryl was _gone_. Meryl had always made the decisions, sometimes with a little coaxing, but as long as Meryl was in charge a decision was always made. It was always so much easier to just follow along... Deciding on her own was so difficult. _Especially_ when she was so tired.

As luck would have it, the past thirty odd hours finally caught up to her. A number of hands shot out to catch her, but proved unnecessary as the tip of the cross she bore thudded down first, then gently slipped her from the carry straps to the ground. The small group shifted uncertainly, not quite sure if they should touch her or not. One of the number, a lanky young man, whispered to another with a much similar face, though one well carved by the sand and time.

"Papa, what should we do? The bounty-"

The elder cuffed his son on the head. "Estupido niño! Do not dare mention that again! Did you see nothing for all the time we were here, or is your brain still bouncing around from when she rattled it? She is a _blessing_ from the Almighty, and the only reason you can stand there and whine when you could of been stuck with the rest of the muertos! Now go fetch a tent from Jose, she should not be left in the sun."

The man hurried off to do as his papa bidded. The elder squatted down and looked her over, grinning with a few missing teeth and occasional shake of the head. She was a strange one. Yesterday, he had first seen her jumping down and striking faster than even the chupacabra of legend, taking out the entire Cortez clan in mere seconds. At first, he could not believe that not a one of the family had been lost in that exchange, but later events showed this as normal. He had seen and heard the terrible power of the Stampede from where he had been stuck to the ground, and had thought they would surely be struck down dead when they could not heed the command to go. That was when he had seen her again.

She had not been but ten yarz off, sometime during the battle circling back to where she had first left them. The nina that had taken down Valdez was still with her, protectively under an arm. She was looking up at the terrible power same as anyone else, but while the others ran, she stayed in place. At the time, it had been incomprehensible. Nobody could have been so calm, yet there she was while everyone else with working legs was putting them to use. Then there were gunshots from behind, and he had twisted around only to see death.

The men that had just run past were all lying on the ground, puddles of blood slowly growing around them. Just below them stood the killer- a she-demon. Oh, the body looked human, but the eyes... Even long gone, those eyes had a dark hold upon his soul. The thin vertical slits were fearful enough, but the way they regarded him... as if he was _food_... And the beast was heading his way. He had tried to bring up his rifle, but the goo that covered it just wouldn't stretch enough. Those horrid eyes had locked on his, then a pistol barrel came up, the trigger was squeezed- and the bullet was warded off by the holy symbol. _She_ had come to his side and guarded him from that wicked thing, which backed down before the cross. It then jumped away, to where he did not know, but _away_ from him and his family, which had been good enough.

In the sudden silence that came over the mountain, she had knelt beside him and apologized while removing the yellowed glop that stuck him in place. He had meekly followed her around as she helped the rest of his immobilized clan members. In all of his sixty three years, he had never seen anyone like her before. They had tried to kill her but minutes earlier, and yet she would not show the slightest sign of hate. From there, she had continued to show such a kind spirit it had moved him to tears. Tears! In a land so dry, even such slight a loss could be ill afforded, and yet she gave them freely for two days.

The young might not see such things well, but his eyes were not clouded by youthful ignorance. There was a bounty, true, and a large one at that, but to collect it would surely damn them all. He had sent some of the older and wiser of the clan to investigate during the night, and they had returned with a story much different from the one that had circled among the bounty hunters before. They had been fools, and blundered right into a battle of angels and demons that threatened to wipe the land clean. Had they known the truth of things, they would have stayed well enough away. However, it was too late for that. They had done wrong to good people, and for that amends must be made. Once she was properly shaded, he would confer with the two other clan elders- there was much to discuss.

¤ ¤ ¤

Troubled sleep and troubled dreams, all for a very troubled outlaw. He had endured some tough nights before, but this latest one had taken the cake. It hadn't helped that the entire day prior had been spent sitting on his butt waiting for Gray to move his, but that was just how things were. Nearly everyone had moved off the mountain yesterday, once all the graves were finished. Of the handful that remained, he had politely but firmly shooed everyone off except for Rai-Dei. Even partly disarmed, Gray was a force to be reckoned with and he didn't want anyone around if it came to a fight. The only reason Rai-Dei got to stay was because he could actually handle the likes of Ninelives, and even a plant would have to sleep at some point.

Now it was just a little over two full days since Knives had run off with Meryl, and he was just getting more worried by the hour. Just what was bro up to? It didn't help that a short wait for them could be in the months range. Gray, unfortunately, appeared to be built for such waits. It had therefor caught him by surprise when the Ninelives creaked into motion around noon, just as he tied his umpteenth game of tic-tac-toe with the samurai. In the time it took for Rai-Dei to look up, he was already in front of Gray.

"So, ready to talk?"

The giant merely bent down and etched his information into the rock. A simple arrow and a number. The arrow pointed out towards the edge of the crash zone, and if that number was in iles he would need transportation. Gray straightened up, and he placed his hand on his gun, waiting to see the next move. Gray simply turned and slowly walked to the cliff edge. Then the giant took one more step, and toppled over the edge. No fanfare, no dramatic spin or stagger, just another ordinary step followed by a wuff of air. He froze in shock until a considerable crash a few seconds later jolted him into action. He ran to the edge and peered over, only to see what was left of Gray strewn around the bottom. He fell back on his rear and clutched his head. He had lost another... Okay, one ninth of another, but still, that was far from necessary...

He slowly got up. Knives had just sent him an invitation, and who was he to refuse? He took off at a run, nearly tumbling down the mountain in his haste, then actually tumbling after one rock gave way. He managed to recover on the roll, and slowed to a stop at the base. The small tent town that had been there was mostly gone, the scattered ruins already flat on the ground, ready to be buried by the first sandstorm to pass through. He ran through it to where he had seen some parked vehicles, but once he got there it was quite clear he wouldn't be going anywhere in those burned out shells. He finally spotted one that looked halfway workable, so he jumped in and tried to gun the engine. It coughed a few times, turned over, then died on him. Dammit, could just one thing go _right_ for him?

He banged his head on the steering wheel and tried to collect himself. This was nothing major, he could just go to town and get one... or, come to think of it, just go get the transport that had ferried them over to the mountain in the first place. He moved to turn off the engine when he abruptly remembered that it had died. Odd... Why was the cab still shaking? He glanced around, only to spot the cause in a side view mirror. A sand steamer's lower hull was clearly visible and approaching fast in the region of the mirror that helpfully reminded him that objects in the mirror are closer than they appear. He only had a split second, so he did the logical thing- dive out the window and run away screaming. However, his dash proved unneeded as the steamer slowed to a stop and just lightly tapped the truck on the rear bumper, setting off the theft alarm. It squawked loudly until the steamer's bow braking anchor dropped on top of the truck, silencing it rather effectively. He stared up the hull as a hatch jiggled loose and a familiar face popped out.

"Hi Mr. Vash! Do you need a ride?"

"Milly? What are you doing up there?"

"Well, I was thinking that once you knew where Meryl was you'd be in a hurry, and Commander Julius says he's still under orders to hunt you down, so I mentioned that the whole hunting thing would be a lot easier if you were on board. Now hurry up and get on, we have to get Meryl!"

A chain ladder dropped down. This was crazy- the _last_ thing he needed to bring was a bunch of humans, no matter how well meaning they might be. Knives wouldn't even be slowed down. Still, he _did_ need a lift... And they would probably follow him anyway. He clambered up the ladder and through the hatch, only to find Milly next to Rai-Dei, who was already inside and waiting for him.

"You.. but I... _How_?"

"Don't be silly Mr. Vash, he just took the short way!"

He just sighed, then finally began to look around. There were two Cavalry soldiers peering out a gunnery slit to the left, and Roy was at another on the right. The ex-commander barked out an order that sounded suspiciously directed to him.

"Any of you see which way the Stampede went?"

"Nope!"

"Not a trace!"

"What about you, guy-in-the-really-dark-shadows?"

Milly giggled, and he swiveled his eyes back and forth between the three Cavalrymen's backs before hesitantly speaking. "Er, he's heading east by southeast?"

"Good work soldier!"

Roy reached up and popped the lid off a voicetube to shout the direction the Stampede had been "seen" taking off in. The steamer rumbled and began to move, slowly turning then picking up speed. The way ahead looked to be all dunes, which was good terrain for a steamer. Once they hit full speed, assuming there were no obstacles and this steamer was about as fast as a Humpback, they'd reach the position in roughly eight hours. Milly grabbed his arm and began to drag him off.

"Where are we going?"

She shushed him and whispered back. "We're stowaways, so we have to be really quiet."

"But weren't you just- nevermind."

Whatever was going on, he'd deal with. He just hoped they knew what they were getting themselves into. He needed to prepare to face Knives, so he let Milly take him to where they were stowing away- as things turned out, it was the arsenal. It was just what he needed- guns. Lots of guns. He began to sort through the stockpile while running various scenarios through his head. Knowing Knives, he needed to prepare for anything. A brief sound of steel against stone made him look up. Rai-Dei had his namesake out and was sharpening it, while Milly was crouched over her two sidearms. Neither looked happy. He turned back to his growing pile of sidearms- he could try, but telling them to stay would be wasted effort. Rai-Dei had taken it upon himself to protect whomever he wasn't around, and with the Blade's history, a failure was not taken lightly. He wouldn't stop until Meryl was back safely- honor left him little choice. As for Milly, well... Meryl was her friend, and that was that.

Nothing to do but prepare.

¤ ¤ ¤

As the dust from the _Archangel_ slowly settled, a tiny bit extra was kicked up by one pair of feet. This continued for a bit, but the dust all came down as the owner of said feet finally acknowledged that he had missed the steamer and wouldn't be catching up in this manner. He slowed to a stop and leaned on his knees to pant, then clutched at his side as a throbbing pain came up. He dropped his backpack and sat down to watch the steamer rumble off. _"Damn, I'm out of shape."_

Well, at least the apartment was paid up, and he could have the whole place to himself- or catch a bus heading towards Warrens City and get back to the shop. Then again, no matter what he did, he'd still be consumed with an itch to know just what the heck had gone on up there. From what he'd heard from the returning bounty hunters- of those that hadn't fled for the four corners of Gunsmoke -seven kinds of hell had broken loose up on the mountain. While that seemed rather doubtful, something major _had_ gone down, and the graveyard that had appeared on the slope plainly told anyone that there had been a whole lot of death.

As he watched a large steamwagon in the distance move towards the path of the steamer, an engine came sputtering up behind him. Casting a glance back, he got quite an eyeful. A jeep was following along the sand steamer's tracks with another a ways behind it, and besides the occasional backfire it was perfectly normal. The people in it were not. He'd seen a fair share of oddballs in his day, but the three in the first jeep were pretty high in the rankings already. It was mostly due to the almost glowing bright white, pink, and yellow designs that covered them. Another good chunk was from the oversized crosses stashed beside each one. _"Friends of Milly, maybe?"_

In any case, the group sputtered to a halt next to him, and a slightly wrinkled old man with white swirls spoke. "Hola, Señior! If you are following the Stampede, be warned- he goes to hunt demons."

"Demons, huh? Sounds a bit farfetched to me."

"Then you were not there, señior. We have seen one of them with our own eyes. You would do well to turn back, or at least bring holy symbols like these to ward them off."

"Thanks, but what I could really use is a lift."

"Oh no señior, we cannot. Without the sacred protections, you would not live long, and with demons, your very soul is in danger. We of the Cortez clan would not willingly take anyone into such danger unprepared. Even if we could, we only have supplies for three. May you go with the Almighty's blessing, señior."

The jeep roared up and sped off. He'd heard and seen some loony superstitions, but never actually seen one quite so bright and obvious... and demons? Whatever had happened sure left an impression. If there was a next time, he'd have to get right in the thick of it, no more sitting back. He might be little more than a mediocre gunman, but the precision tooling of his Specials made up for a lot.

The next jeep rumbled to a stop, and he nearly did a double take at the lone occupant. The driver nearly looked like a female version of Vash, complete with red coat, yet lacking the spiked hair.

"Heading after the steamer?"

"More like heading after Vash."

"Great. I'll give you a ride if you'll just tell me what the hell is going on around here! I finally make it to town only to catch sight of someone who looked like Vash clambering onto the Cavalry steamer, a new graveyard, and more spooked bounty hunters than I could count on the way in!"

"I can't promise to know all the answers, but I do know that was Vash on the steamer."

"Then hop in already!"

He slung the backpack over the rear door before stepping in, only to get nearly knocked over when the driver floored it when he was only half in.

"Watch it woman, I'm not a spry lad anymore!"

"Well, you're in, aren't you? And start talking, I want to know _everything_ that the Stampede's done recently."

"Well, uh..." He searched his head for anything that he was absolutely certain of, but that just pointed out how little he actually knew of recent goings-on. Well, he did know _one_ thing for sure...

"He got married a little over a week ago."

She looked at him out of one eye for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Ha! I bet Meryl twisted his arm into that one."

"Nah, it was more like she totally floored him, and- hey, how do you know he married Meryl?"

"I could ask you much the same."

He clamped a hand over his mouth. _"Geeze, way to go bigmouth..."_ However, the obvious soon made itself apparent.

"You know them too, don't you?"

She nodded an affirmative.

"Well, since you aren't carrying around more than that Winster Bowgun, I guess you must know him fairly well."

"Hardly, and I'm still waiting to hear just what happened up there."

He smiled sheepishly. "Well, once you catch up with the steamer, we can find out together."

The jeep honked loudly as she brought her head down on the steering column. He raised his eyebrows at the action, and his next words were echoed by her muttering.

"You really _do_ know Vash."

Now it was his turn to laugh. They probably had quite a set of stories to swap, so there'd be no lack of comedy while they chased down old spiky.

¤ ¤ ¤

Much later, and much farther ahead of the others following their track, the planet's only finished battlesteamer pulled alongside the stretched out wreckage of an original SEEDS ship. Barely visible in the dim twilight, one figure standing upon the bow frowned in puzzlement. They were at the right location, near as he could tell, but there was still no sign of Knives. If he was around, he should be able to at least sense his presence, but all he was detecting was one normal plant in the ship, the only one to survive the crash among all the plants and sleepers. Still, there was another sign that they were in the right place- a single opening in the ship's hull was spilling out ruddy light, despite the emergency lights only having a power reserve good for ten days of operation, let alone one hundred thirty plus years. Someone had been here recently.

Not in a mood to waste time, he vaulted the railing and slid down the hull before rushing to the opening, all senses working in overdrive to detect the slightest danger. The persistent negatives did little to sooth his nervousness. He peeked in, seeing the lights go off in one direction. Well, at least the path was laid out for him. Sprinting down corridors was the best option- with a good head of steam, he could outdistance pretty much any sprung trap before whatever could get over the inertial motionlessness that was key to a hidden trap. The continued lack of absolutely anything at all just stuck his nerves on an even higher alert.

Moving too fast to see or not, he was taking in his surroundings even faster, and thus didn't miss the coppery and rancid scents of blood and decayed flesh that emerged from a side room. He ducked in, and took in the place from the doorway. It was a bathroom, again recently occupied. A small set of basic supplies covered the counter, and next to the tub he could see a stack of armor plates. _In_ the tub, however... He practically dived into the dark red, murky water and the barely visible shape within. He hauled the form out in an instant, then screamed when there was no head where there should have been one.

He toppled over backwards, dropping the form. It fell over the tub edge and deflated as the water spilled out. "Ah, not her, just her clothes..." The relatively benign truth of the empty survival suit did little to calm his throbbing heart. His face was probably pure white- thinking you had just found your beloved's headless corpse would do that, wouldn't it? He laughed nervously and picked himself up. The suit looked intact, so she must have been okay up to whenever it came off... Come to think of it, wouldn't this mean she was in the buff right now? Well, she could have his coat once he finished the dashing and gallant rescue, though it would get in the way of their private post-victory celebration... He started smacking himself. _"Don't be like that now, be that way after you win."_

Having finished knocking the sense back into himself and flushing out the endorphin storm, he picked up the pace again and sped on through the twisting path, taking out a few key lights on the way. While there may be well meaning help behind him, he would need to face Knives on his own. Milly and Rai-Dei might be good, but they were no match for Knives. Brother against brother, that's the sad truth on how it had to be. Suddenly, he rounded the last corner and burst into the plant chamber, with the ship's plant moving around her bulb. He dived into a roll, coming up alongside the bulb with his silver gun at the ready. He hastily scanned the cavernous room, but there was no sign of Knives, the Gung-ho Guns, or even some "Sorry we missed you" explosives. He holstered his gun and looked the place over again.

It was just an ordinary engineering room, aside from the scattered medical equipment brought in and arranged around the bulb. One detail caught his eye, and he moved to the surgical table as his heart leapt into his throat. There were several small splatters of blood on it, and the surgical instruments next to it were practically covered with the dried reddish stains. Worst of all were the restraining straps, slightly frayed and bloody. Whoever had been here certainly hadn't been willing. However, this all didn't answer the basic question of _where_ everyone was, and by now he really didn't care about any of them save one.

He looked around yet again, for anything he might have missed. The plant angel was very upset and kept bumping into the glass on this side, as if it was trying to reach him... or get away from something on the other side. Glancing up, he spotted one cable that led off that way, and dashed around the bulb. There, hidden from view, was a hibernation capsule, fully powered and working. That meant only one thing- someone was in it. He peered in, but the interior of the glass has fogged over too much for him to see anything. His more unique senses could see through, and confirmed that there was someone in there but they couldn't tell him who it was.

There was only one way to find out, so he moved to the other side, where the capsule's controls were located. There was a note left on the switch that started the waking cycle, his name inscribed in computer-perfect lettering. It was clearly from Knives. He palmed the control while unfolding the note, leaning back on the tube to read.

_Dear Brother,_

I regret that I cannot meet you at this time, but there are urgent matters to attend to. Besides, anything said face to face would simply lead to another squabble between us, I regrettably see no other outcome. Our difference of opinion is simply too great. However, this is not an insurmountable obstacle between us. The entire debate will become moot once the humans are gone, so I've gone to hasten that day as much as possible. Personally, after seeing that wanton display of destruction and vile notions on the mountain, that day can't possibly come soon enough. It's an unfortunate nastiness that must be dealt with before we can create our Eden.

I am aware of how attached you get to those creatures, so against my better judgement I'll let you keep a few of them, even give you a month to gather your favorites. Simply keep them close to you and they won't be killed, though I must ask that you keep the number under fifty. That way, when some invariably try and run off, they won't be able to breed back up to a dangerous level. Indeed, you would be advised to have them all sterilized- the procedure is not very complicated for either sex, I'm sure you could do it yourself.

On the subject of excessive attachments, I left your prized pet in the hibernation capsule. Your irresponsible behavior necessitated that I step in. For the record, I still believe that using a human to pleasure yourself is disgusting, but once it dies of old age we can put it behind us. You've let it get far to close to you, in where you can't readily defend yourself, so I've made a few modifications that should make it safer for you while you indulge yourself. I imagine you'll be upset, but it's for your own good. You may even prefer some of the changes, though I found it to be in better than estimated condition. The lungs work exceptionally well.

I do have a favor to ask- that large one you keep around, called "Milly Thompson", has piqued my interest. There is something about its brain that prevents ready access and masks its presence, so whenever it dies I would like you to preserve the corpse for study. Live examination would be more informative, and it won't be fatal, so if you could let me borrow it for a time I would be most thankful. The full examination would take several months and may cause some lasting damage, so in exchange I'll offer to put the extermination on hold while the tests are being run. Do think it over.

Your Brother,  
Millions Knives

Oh, and try and placate our sister in this ship, she has been most agitated ever since I began the operations and my efforts to calm her have met with little success.

_"Damn it Knives, I really thought we were getting somewhere..."_ He sagged down to the floor, letting the hand holding the note splay across his knees while he dropped his head in the other. It appeared his wishes for Knives to change were just that- wishes. Bro hadn't changed one bit, and this time it looked like Knives didn't care what his own feelings were. Knives was done trying to persuade him to see humanity as a blight, and had simply moved on to the extermination stage alone. This time, he was completely at a loss as to what to do.

Even when Knives _wanted_ to be found, it had still taken him years and a ton of not-so-subtle hints. If Knives simply wanted to avoid him, there was blasted little he could do about it. He could keep some people safe, but humanity was spread out over such a large area that there was no way he could save them all. Knives would simply strike where he wasn't, and gradually whittle away all the people. He did have a little time- one month until the towns began to disappear again. He could come up with _something_ in that time. He had to.

The tube hissed as the pressure seal broke and the cover swung away. He glanced up from his spot on the floor, wondering if he dared look and see just what sort of "modifications" Knives had done. He remained frozen in place, conflicting urges of wanting to see her, yet not wanting to see what had been done to her warring in his mind. She coughed, and he was forced to move. He grasped the edge and swung himself up.

The first thing he saw were her eyes. Mostly lidded, they squinted up, reacclimating to a non-hibernation state. She gently rolled back and forth, slowly coming out of the chemically induced artificial sleep, but despite all the doom and gloom in Knives' letter, she looked... fine. From the top of her head to the tips of her toes and everywhere in between, she looked just fine- of course, tissue regenerators wouldn't leave telltale scars. She was actually very fine indeed, as his gaze lingered on certain spots. Wait a second, that didn't look quite as he remembered... An experimental grab confirmed his suspicion as everything wouldn't neatly fit in his hand anymore. A warning growl from his still sluggish wife made him withdraw the hand just as quickly. She began to blink in earnest and felt for the sides of the capsule, so he helped her sit up as she coughed again. Yeah, she was definitely bigger...

Forcing his gaze back up, he stared her in the eye until she stopped squinting and finally focused on him. He held his breath- this was the moment of truth.

She smiled at him.

He smiled back. "You had me worried."

She managed an "...orry.", coughed, then repeated herself properly. He clasped her hand. "Are you okay? What did Knives do to you?"

Her gaze slacked for a moment, and her other hand unsteadily came up to rub her abdomen. "I'm fine, but... I can't have children anymore."

_"No children."_ He had always known that Knives was against it, but he never thought it would go this far. Not to mention the two of them had already decided, as a couple, that children simply wouldn't be a good idea for them. A seething rage towards Knives began to stir. _"But damn it all, it's _our_ choice, not his! He has no right to do this, _any_ of this!"_

She moved to get out of the tube, so he helped her to the floor. She took a step, and fell over. He caught and steadied her body, then draped his coat over her shoulders when he saw a shiver. "Careful, I read that these tubes can scramble your balance."

"It's not that. Knives did something... to both legs, both arms... I saw him. They feel so _heavy_."

He watched, mutely, as she as she struggled to cross the distance to the bulb without falling over again. Hibernation sickness was supposed to pass quickly, and she couldn't have been in there for long... As she slowly hobbled around the bulb, a fragment of Knives' letter ran through his head- ...make it safer for you.... Well, moving like that, she certainly wouldn't be a threat to anyone. Something began to bubble inside him, something he couldn't quite place. Something besides the cracking of his heart as he watched his once dynamic wife shuffle along, broken. He came up behind her and held her gently. "I'm sorry Meryl, I'm so sorry... This is all my fault..."

Her head shook and she turned around. "Don't be. I'm happy, really! Just being with you is enough..."

He couldn't have held back the tears with a dam. He nearly crushed her into his chest as they fell freely on her head. The something inside him was now boiling, urgently seeking release. His right arm twitched and shook. This was too much all at once. Meryl said something that was muffled in his chest, so he broke the embrace and smiled through the tears for her. She said it again.

It was the straw that broke the Toma's back.

¤ ¤ ¤

At that moment, every plant in a six hundred ile radius went berserk.

¤ ¤ ¤

Mr. Vash really should learn to accept help graciously. Sure, he wanted to take care of everything himself, but nobody could take on all the troubles of the world alone. Why, being helped simply let you help others even more, because you could do those things you were best at while someone helped with the things you weren't so good at. It was a very simple thing, really. Why, there were all sorts of things the two of them could help with. What they were in this case she wasn't quite sure, but they could _certainly_ help somewhere. Now, if they could just catch up to Mr. Vash before he needed them and not after...

He had taken off much too quickly. She had to run to even attempt to keep up, but he was long out of sight by the time she finally reached the opening in the ship. He was so far in that she couldn't even hear his boots on the floor. Mr. Rai-Dei made the jump up and in easily enough, and helped pull her up. At least he knew how to be gracious in giving help and was making a good effort at accepting help, and it was already making him happier. He bounced along beside her as they passed through the ship, darting ahead to look around every corner and side passage as they followed the lights. If there had been any problem, Mr. Vash would have taken care of it. However, the passageways just kept going and going and going, and it was making her quite tired. Luckily, she spotted a pool of water ahead- a good drink would have her going again. Rai-Dei stopped at the opening the water was coming from and scowled. When she caught up, a good look tugged the sides of her mouth downward. Meryl had obviously been in here, since her clothing was strewn on the floor in the middle of a big puddle. She picked up the suit and folded it neatly- Meryl would be upset if it was left on the floor like that. The tub water looked all nasty and unfit to drink, but the faucet did work, so she cupped her hands and took a few big gulps.

They left the room and continued on, though things got harder since a lot of the lights were out. Sometimes she had to shield her eyes and peer down each passage in turn until she could see which had the faint glimmer of the next red marker on the path. Despite this, they still managed to move at an okay clip, but these were precious minutes and any delay could be too much.

"Oh, Mr. Rai-Dei?"

"Hai?"

"I think you should stop darting ahead like that. I think we're getting close now, and I think Meryl might be, er, uh... Well, we have her clothes..."

Rai-Dei regarded her oddly. "Forgive me, but aren't there more important things to worry about?"

"Well, maybe, but we don't know what those are just yet. Once we know what those are, then we can worry about them, though I suppose we'll be a bit too busy dealing with whatever might be there to be worried, so there's no sense in worrying about it! Besides, a lady's privacy is very important, and some of my brothers learned that after they got black eyes instead of before."

They continued on for a few more steps when the scariest noise she had _ever_ heard echoed through the ship. It sent a chilly tingle down her back and her tummy flip flopped. She took off in a dead heat. Somehow, she knew that had been Mr. Vash, and he needed help _now_. There was no time to look for the right path, so she asked Nicholas to help her find it as she whizzed around corners and tripped over rubble. That way, that way, that, no, the other way, that way, that way, say, that light looked different...

She swung around the last corner and charged in. It was suddenly so bright that she couldn't see a thing, so it was therefor a double relief when she heard Meryl sharply bark out "Stay back!" thereby giving her a better idea as to what needed doing- staying out of the way, for the moment. She turned around and ran back, rubbing at her eye on the way. Finally able to see more than a big bright something, she spotted Rai-Dei standing in the entrance to wherever they were, standing over a set of large sparking gashes that ran along the floor and up the wall and doorframe. He looked a bit surprised. His mouth was hanging open, and he dropped his sword. She turned around.

"Oh my."

It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Dozens and dozens of long, creamy feathers rose up from the left side of the brightly glowing plant bulb in the middle of the room, extending all the way to the roof high above. They glittered and waved, some dipping way down to just touch the ground before rising back up. All the while, little bands of light moved up and down their lengths, throwing a mass of colors around the room. She should have brought a camera. One dipped down her way, and she laughed and tried to catch it, only to have Mr. Rai-Dei yank her back just as she almost had it.

"Aww, why'd you go and do that?"

"You would have lost your hand, you fool! Look at what they've done!"

She turned and looked again. One dipped down close to where they were, down to the floor... no, _into_ the floor, then rose back up, leaving a tiny gash behind. They were _very_ sharp, since these looked like very tough metal floors. Come to think of it, the whole room looked very marked up... Something bad had happened here. The middle was swept clean, but all around the edges of the room large pieces of expensive-looking equipment were strewn about. One fell over with a crash as she watched. Turning back to the feathery bulb, she started to make her way towards a spot of red that stuck out near where all the feathers came from. It wasn't hard to avoid the feathers that dipped down- they moved slowly, and seemed to twitch away on their own. In no time at all, she was by the bulb and began to circle around to where she thought she has seen Meryl and Mr. Vash. She could hear him moaning- maybe he had cut himself on one of the feathers?

She spied one of his gloves, all torn to pieces and well soaked with blood. It looked funny, almost like it had burst from the inside... She gasped slightly as she saw what else was tangled in with the shreds of the glove. Mr. Vash's wedding ring was stuck in the tattered leather, broken into pieces. She picked them up, he wouldn't want to lose them entirely. From this new point, she finally spied Mr. Vash's leg and Meryl's foot sticking out from just around the bulb, along with a bit of his coat. She slid around, careful of the much denser feathers, and finally had them in sight.

Mr. Vash was leaning up against the bulb while Meryl had her back turned to her, slowly stroking his hair. The feathers all seemed to erupt right beside Mr. Vash, and his head was lolling around, the most miserable expression she'd ever seen on what she could see of his face.

"Are you okay?"

They both turned her way. Mr. Vash was... Her eyes just about popped out of her head. All the feathers were popping out of his side, right where his arm should have been, and other, much smaller ones were sprouting and retracting all over his right side. They even ran up to his head, where one eye peered out without seeing, completely silvered over. "Mr. Vash, what happened to you?"

He didn't answer, but Meryl did, and she sounded quite cross. "I told you to stay back."

"I'm sorry I couldn't, but I thought you needed help."

"He's miserable and angry right now. I don't think there's a thing we can do."

She wasn't completely sure about that, but it sure looked like Mr. Vash was well beyond any help they could provide, though this was a bit much to get worked up to. It must be quite a lot to make someone sprout feathers, and as far as she knew nothing had ever gotten anyone that worked up before. "So what about you, Meryl?"

She sounded much more upbeat, almost feverish. "I'm great, wonderful even! Who wouldn't be?"

"Good to hear, but maybe you should lie down? You look a little weak."

"No, I'm not weak, I'm... better. Yes, much better. Better than ever. I've never been this good, don't you see?"

A very bad feeling came over her. She had heard that sort of talk, that sort of tone somewhere before... "Meryl?"

"Now, I can serve him more effectively than ever before! What better gift could there be than to become better suited for our Master and all his needs?"

Everything shifted into place. She slid down the bulb to the floor, suddenly unable to see anything but the two of them, one well lost in his misery, and the other equally lost in an engineered delirium of joy. Every part of her screamed that this was wrong, wrong, wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong... Meryl continued to babble to Mr. Vash.

"Master, just tell me what you desire and it will be done! I've been remade just for you, so please, tell me!"

His only response was another unearthly howl, a feeble attempt to express the turmoil inside.

* * *

¤deep in the bowls of the earth, one yellow-eyed demon in the form of man leans back and laughs¤

Note: The line of badly translated Latin at the top reads as such: "Gods create in their own image. What is the image of the evil god?"

**Reviewer Responses**

everyone: Well, you had mostly the same review, probably because there was one major point of the last chapter that completely stomped on all the others, and not little stomps, but Godzilla sized footprints. Sad to say, but I think I've just done a repeat performance this chapter, and it appears the surgery was the most minor thing to happen to poor, poor Meryl.

kitsune: Silence of the Lambs. I _never_ pass up a free cookie. Even if it might be poisoned by any number of especially angry sources. Since I'm clearly crazy to do this, make it Macadamian Nut.

* * *

Next chapter: Vash tries to come to grips with the changes in Meryl, while Knives' declaration of war spreads through the ranks of the 3rd, culminating in a most unusual meeting... 


	36. Chapter 34: Tragic Angels

I feel a great disturbance in The Stuff, as if dozens of readers suddenly cried out in pain, and were suddenly angsty. 

Disclaimer: I smell something bitter, and something else that's... fruity. **-Rating up to M-** Kiddies out of the pool!

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars 

Chapter 34: Tragic Angels

There were no words for him. Words, the neat little packages of sound, used to convey a bit of information or a concept. A few would pop into his head, but he could articulate none, for they all fell short of what he was feeling. Therefor, he had been forced back from the warm trappings of rational thought and enlightenment to the instinct and feeling of the unthinking beast. In that pure state, he found power, and struck out with it. The machines that had harmed her were themselves harmed in turn, flung aside by a wisp of thought. He screamed into the ether, shattering the song, trying to strike at the one who did this, but finding nothing.

He slowly became coherent, returning to a state that was merely unbalanced. He could understand what he heard now, though it did nothing to help him. She was begging, pleading for any sign from him. A comfort, normally, but not now, not when her words twisted into meanings of subservience and worship. He couldn't take this. He had to know what was done with an urgency so great all other things were squeezed out. It made him do something he had never done before- he formed a link and dove into her mind _without_ asking, deeper than her active consciousness, through the place where memories resided, to the place that held the essence of a person. Had he been in his right mind, he never would have considered it.

The very first thing he encountered was a wall, far larger and stronger than anything he had ever seen her create. It was likely formed by _him_, the one who stood just before its vast expanse. Seeing him brought out the rage once again, and this time his mental arm twisted and burst into a flurry of razor-like feathers to match what was back in reality. They slashed again and again and again, but did no damage- this was but an image of Knives, after all, and possessed all the substance of any other object from a dream. The image spoke, playing out a recording made and left for him even as he tried to tear it to shreds.

"Hello Vash. I suppose you became curious as to just what is happening in your little pet's mind, as I thought you might be. However, there is a little task you must accomplish before you can proceed further. Not long ago, I showed you a memory, on how I determined that all humans were flawed no matter what they might claim to be. That was only part of what I had to show you. The second memory has been placed here."

The transparent form stepped aside, and a black door appeared in the wall. His burst of rage was waning, a hope now building that all Knives had done was create an elaborate front so he would be forced to see this memory.

"Beyond that door lies the other memory I carefully preserved. It was the one that laid out what had to be done. I never wanted to force it on you, because it is... horrible- the ghastly proof that the humans are wretched, foul creatures that _deserve_ to die. When I found it, I felt something in me wither away. I never wanted you to feel something like that, so I hid everything from you. Unfortunately, I fear this has only caused us both pain. In keeping you from the truth, I forgot an important detail- that without truth, lies and ignorance rule. For this, I am sorry, though I don't expect forgiveness. Now go, and see what I should have shown you from the start."

The image faded away, leaving only the door behind. He tried to calm down and steeled his nerves. If he wanted Meryl back, this was the way he had to go. He took a few deep breaths before realizing that they would do him no good in here. It wasn't real air, after all. He gripped the handle and pulled the door open. The darkness within was absolute and seemed to suck hungrily at him. He took a step back. Maybe this was a bad idea... but Meryl was waiting for him. He stepped in.

¤ ¤ ¤

"How are the energy levels?"

The lines scrolling across the screen wiggled, but didn't drop. "Holding steady."

"_Still_? Administer another CC."

A technician dressed in full hazmat gear in the adjacent room moved to do as instructed, as he watched the monitor. There was a brief drop moments later, but the levels climbed back up to standard even faster than before. Now that a decision had finally been made, _long_ after he had already figured out what it had to be, things just refused to proceed smoothly. One CC should have done the job, but it had already taken _four_ to no lasting effect. Damned thing... One of the other technicians spoke up to the project head.

"Sir, this would support my adaptive core theory. They keep neutralizing the injections and forcing repairs on the atomic level, getting faster each time as they become more accustomed with the substance. The recovery times are matching my simulation to within 99.5."

"Noted, but what would you suggest to counter the effect?"

"Remove one of the cores, and increase the dosage by a factor of ten. The remaining core should overload as it attempts repairs at the current efficiency level."

"Need I remind you that we're behind schedule already? Removing a core would take nearly an hour-"

The junior technician interrupted. "Only if we use standard procedure. Since the project is ending, we don't need to take such care. We can simply remove the whole section in one stroke, and we may learn whether or not a core can truly function when separated from the primary control."

The leader considered the proposal before nodding. "Very well, but be sure to use the laser on a high heat setting. Leakage will cause distortion in the readings, and we're only getting one shot at this, so all the connections need to be melted to a seal."

The technician in the room fetched the cutter tool while several of the junior technicians put their hands over their ears. They just weren't used to the noise yet. The first time he heard it, it had spooked him thoroughly, but a few months on the project got him over the sound. Sure enough, there was a piercing shriek as the core and adjoining section was removed.

"Administer ten CCs."

He watched the monitor again. The levels dropped a little, then the decline slowed for a few seconds. Suddenly, the lines dropped sharply on all points save the remaining core, which rocketed off the scale. Another shriek sliced through the room, catching everyone off guard. "Holy shit, look at that!"

He stood to get a good look at what had made the junior burst out like that- the monitors didn't matter now, it was what they expected from the start of the procedure. What was happening in the adjacent room was very much _un_expected.

It was screeching continuously, but that wasn't what got his attention. The remaining core was glowing so brightly he could see it clearly, and it was starting to arc electricity around the room. The technician inside dived to the floor as the energy danced, jumping from item to item in small nets and occasional large bolts. An especially violent outburst hit the room, momentarily turning the viewing window white, but afterward the overall storm lessened. It happened again a second later, and this time he noticed a change in the subject. Once more, and the change spread much further. Now it began to convulse violently, knocking off or breaking many of the tubes that had kept it functioning. After the sixth burst, the core faded and the bolts died out. It twitched slightly.

Then it _looked_ at them. It always unnerved him when it did that, and this time it was worse. Now that the hair had turned all black from the prior peppered white, it appeared even more human. Damned monster... Why wouldn't it just up and die already? If nothing else, it was tenacious. It had withstood temperature extremes, nutrient withholding, all manner of toxins, and even an extended bout with the vacuum of space. They hadn't even slowed down its phenomenal growth. Sure, it had looked worse for wear, but the physical parameters just kept growing. A few more weeks and they wouldn't have been able to contain it.

_/"Could've been... Friend..."/_ He glanced around, searching for who had said it. Sounded like a lady, but all woman had been removed from the project some time ago. If anyone was suggesting that they could have been friends, they clearly hadn't read enough history. Every great civilization came to ruin when it got soft and let someone tougher get established, and the _thing_ in the next room was clearly tougher. At least the Lost had been butt ugly, and that made it easy to kill them, but this new plant spawn looked so much like a human it had begun triggering maternal instincts in the starting research team. Didn't they know that naming a monster wouldn't make it any less of a monster? It would only lower your guard, though after that dying display the name it had been given made eerie sense. Looked just like an overcharged Tesla coil... At least the higher ups had seen it for the oversized cuckoo it was, and wisely decided to nip it while they could.

It finally lost focus and went limp. A glance at the monitors showed everything at zero, but they could just be shorted out. The technician in the room cautiously got off the floor, and gingerly prodded it with a gloved hand. It didn't move. The project leader propped his glasses back up and began to issue orders.

"That's a wrap. Check your data to see how much that surge may have corrupted the readings. Place the subject in stasis, we'll have to wait until planet landing to conduct the full autopsy. Keep the separated core in a nutrient bath for the next forty eight hours and monitor all behavior. Everyone not involved, write up your final reports, and remember that this is level three restricted- nobody outside the project or council is to know anything. Dismissed."

The team filed out of the room. He stayed behind to set up the automatic monitors for the still active core. That done, he turned to leave.

"Steve, wait."

"What is it?"

The team leader flipped off the audio relay into the containment room. "I've received a report that another plant is displaying the instability pattern that preceded this one's spawn."

"We have all the information we need, so why don't they just jettison the plant into space?"

"Two reasons. First, it's not a geoplant, but a Mark IV plant, and thus contained within a ship. Second, the council has decided to stay out of it."

"What do you mean?"

"They're going to let it spawn and leave the crew to decide what to do. Word is that they're hoping the crew will raise it."

"_What_! Surely they know that letting one of those things survive is a hazard to humanity!"

"Evidently they don't, being the politicians they are. I'm not that worried, though."

"Not worried? Dr. Conrad, with all due respect-"

"That's because I've placed a transfer in. I can't go since that would raise too much suspicion, but with a little tweaking I managed to remove you from the list of Project Tessla and have you rotated onto the lead ship. I'm actually rather interested in what development will be like for one of them without any of the difficulties we placed on this one. I want you to observe and record... and should it become aggressive, terminate it."

"Sir, I really don't think this is a good job for-"

"Nonsense. You're a good man and an excellent plant engineer. Your qualifications are sufficient for this task."

"I still think it should be one of those intel spooks. They've got training at hiding emotion-"

"They're also not cleared to know anything about Project Tessla, and that greatly lowers the pool of people who can do the task at all, and you're the only one who I'd rate over 'marginal'. You're stuck with it whether you like it or not, but it's not all bad. After all, there's a good chance that the spawn will be killed right away, and even if that doesn't happen, well... Space is a dangerous place, and accidents are known to happen, if you get my drift."

"I understand perfectly."

"That's my boy. I think you'll like Captain Joey, and both the women on staff are single. One is actually a distant relative of mine, and a widow, after the Lost got her husband. I think you could do her some good. I'd certainly welcome you into the family."

"Ah, this isn't exactly a good time."

"Nonsense! This is the perfect time. The next generation won't come out of nowhere, and after seeing _that_ you should know that we'll have to work hard at making sure there is a next generation. How about some lunch?"

The doctor put an arm over his shoulder and ushered him towards the door. He took one last look back at the containment room, where the technician was just finishing placing the body and severed arm into their respective tanks. Yeah, there was definitely work to be done on furthering humanity... For now, he'd just focus on making sure they stayed on top, where humans belonged. Now, what would be good for lunch?

¤ ¤ ¤

He practically fell out of the memory. That was... She had been... Someone like him... And they killed her for it. He could barely pull himself up. Knives was right- that was horrible. And to speak of the devil...

"Now you've seen it all. Do you understand why they must die? Such cruelty, such torment... I saw it all, every moment, every injustice, everything he knew. It was all because they could not accept that humanity was destined to be superceded by our kind. For that one pitiful reason the first of us, we who have the potential to simply walk and see all the universe, was condemned to a short existence filled with nothing but pain. She never went beyond that one room. I tried to be merciful in executing their sentence, but circumstance made things much more drawn out than I anticipated. Gather your pets, brother. Humanity's long delayed end will come swiftly."

The image faded, and the wall crumbled away. Finally, he could go get Meryl, and then she could help him make sense of all this chaos. Now, to go looking... He boosted himself across the landscape of her mind, looking for anything familiar, but all there was to see was an endless barren plain. He finally spied a glint of something different, and zoomed over. It was... different. The features were unlike any he'd seen before, though there was something even more odd about them. It was almost like they had no substance, as if they were... hastily made... He boosted out, and slipped around again- that couldn't be everything, those features were nothing like her, so _where the hell was she_? He combed the land over and over, to the edge of her mind, but no matter where he went there was nothing else to be found. She was...

He fled, back up, through all the layers. He had to get out of here, if he stayed, he'd have to admit _it_... And he couldn't do that. So he ran, flew, tunneled, any movement that would take him away from what was back there. He practically tumbled back into reality, right onto the cold metal floor below and the warm plant bulb that kept him propped up.

"Mr. Vash!"

Just as had he been able to view the physical world, it was cut off again by Milly's distraught face. She clutched his collar and began shaking, all the while spilling out what she'd seen as full steam. "WetriedtofollowbutyouweretoofastandthentherewasthisawfulscreamandwefoundyouwithlotsoffeathersandMerylis-"

She stopped abruptly. The palm that had shot up from below ceased the outpour the instant it impacted her chin. Her head snapped back and her grip loosened, then fell away entirely as a slender bare foot planted itself firmly in Milly's midsection. It then shoved with enough force to send the big girl tumbling. Then he heard _her_.

"Insolent! How dare you treat out Master like that!"

He could only stare dumbly as _she_ turned away from Milly, the snarl of rage on her face instantly softening into concerned doting. "Are you all right Master? Did she hurt you? Your arm looks normal now, though I think you've lost a lot of blood..." His hearing failed him, leaving the world as loud ringing. As he was fussed over, his gaze drifted past the one before him, to where Milly was picking herself off the ground. She reached up, fingers brushing over the forming bruise, then her face shifted from incomprehension to screwed up misery and she burst into tears. The lilac eyes never ever looked back at the friend they had hurt. He could take no more, and fled for the blissful darkness of unconsciousness.

¤ ¤ ¤

Awareness came back swiftly once he finally stirred. His eyes opened to see the dimmest of light illuminating the room he was in, coming as is was from the thin cracks around the door. The slight hum and smell of machined air told him this was a steamer, likely the _Archangel_, and the warm softness below him was certainly a bed. The warmer, rather weighty softness above and to his side was another matter, though his suspicions were strong given that his arms had wrapped around it sometime while he was out. The weight, the warmth, the way her breath tickled his chest and her heart set a gentle rhythm... It was all like the past few days had never happened. His hand came up unsteadily to gently run down her bare back, each pass comforting on one level, but also leaving a horrible tightening in his chest.

She stirred, a soft sigh rumbling through her. Then, deepening breaths and a quickening pulse told him she was awake now. He froze, suddenly afraid to move, while she remained still for long moments. Then she let out a lingering sigh of contentment and began to shift, sliding one leg over to rest between his. Her hands played up and down his body, the touch nothing short of electric. His breath froze in shock as she began to grind down, wrapping around his side like a snake and making much huskier moans. This was wrong. "No..."

She paused and pulled her arms back, then she began to slide down his chest, trailing kisses in a meandering path leading lower. "I'm sorry Master, your pleasure should come first..."

"No! Just stop. Please."

"As you wish."

They laid motionless for a time, but he knew this was just delaying what he had to do. There was crushing pain as he hardened his heart in preparation. Then he was done, and there was nothing left but to say it. It was odd how calm it sounded in his ears when he finally spoke, very soft and without a trace of emotion.

"Get out."

"Master?"

"Get up, put on your clothes, and _leave_."

There was a twinge of disappointment in her voice, but not a trace of anger or sadness. "I... Of course, Master."

She shifted the covers and rolled off him to sit on the edge of the bed. He turned to the wall as the lights came on, listening as she pulled on her survival suit. It seemed to take her much longer to dress than normal, the mattress lightly bouncing with each movement. It finally lifted back into shape as she got up with a slight grunt. He heard her fight with the suit a bit more, then finally move for the door. One step, two steps... a sharp tap? Two more steps then another tap followed, and he turned to look at her departing form. She was moving slowly, firmly planting each foot on the ground then bringing a cane forward to support her through the next two steps. He suddenly felt like he had shrunk a good three feet- in all the shock at what Knives had done to her mind, he had forgotten what else had been done to her body. He should have been the one to leave, but had been too busy stewing in his own misery to remember. She paused at the door and turned back to him.

"In the morning, the regiment doctor wishes to be graced by your presence. He examined both of us and says he has several things to discuss with you. The 3rd has swept the area, but has found no sign of your brother."

She reached out and began to twist the door handle. "Wait, what about Milly?"

She paused. "I'm sorry Master, I don't know. I had to watch over you while you were recovering. Shall I fetch her?"

"No, just leave me alone."

A nod, and then she was gone, the door clicking behind her. He reached out and turned off the lights, laying back in the suddenly chilly bed. He was used to a cold bed, as a few decades of wandering had taught him all the tricks on keeping warm. However, he knew of nothing that could warm the chill in his heart. _"What do I do now?"_ He drew the covers closer. _"I'd know what to do if she was dead, but I've never seen this before..."_ He curled up, clutching at his head and staring wildly into the darkness. _"Rem! Rem! I don't know what to do, Rem!"_

There was no answer. Rem had been beyond his reach ever since he had fallen from grace.

¤ ¤ ¤

It just kept hurting and hurting. Sure, she had taken a few bumps on the chin before, and growing up on a farm meant you'd take a few good kicks from the Tomas, and all that was a good bit more forceful than these last two. But they still hurt. It wasn't so much the body, really. She kept going over and over the moment, and decided it really wasn't the slam or the kick that hurt, but that look she had received.

Sure, Meryl got angry. She would get all worked up over silly little things, but that was simply how she was. Meryl used that to keep from getting too involved with people and to stay focused on the task at hand. True, it sometimes got her in trouble, but Meryl always knew when to rein it in. She never really said it, but Meryl wouldn't let that anger of hers hurt someone who didn't deserve it.

But that look... It had made her skin all clammy. It wasn't the regular anger of Mad Meryl, but _real_ rage. She had actually gotten so angry that she had hit her, twice, for no reason. It was like Meryl just wasn't Meryl anymore. It was quite a shock to Mr. Vash too, because he had passed out right after. Things had just become worse from there. Meryl kept saying all sorts of things that made no sense, and it scared her. She kept glaring at everyone that got too close to Mr. Vash, like she couldn't trust anyone anymore. Even worse, while she ranted and raved she seemed oblivious to how bad off she was. That Knives had clearly gone and done something horrible.

She might have found out what it was, as Knives had left a note behind. However, big big brother had found it first, then his face had gone all pale as he read it, and now he refused to give it to her or tell her what it said. It must have been very bad indeed, because now she had two Cavalry soldiers watching over her at all times. Sure, they were very nice and polite, always with a smile, but she could tell they were forced. They had seen the letter too, and they just couldn't really smile after that. Indeed, she was starting to suspect that just about everyone had seen the letter _but_ her, even though it was rather rude to be reading a personal letter if it wasn't meant for you. That was why she hadn't read the crumpled page she had found in the ship, and _certainly_ hadn't shown it to anyone else. It had Meryl's handwriting, and the very first word was "Vash", so she read no further. Once Mr. Vash was up, she could give it to him.

Still, it was kind of unfair that he could sleep like that while she was sleepless. She had only managed a few fitful hours this night while he had spent all of _last_ night, the following day, and now most of this night snoozing. Still, those had been _very_ large feathers, and sprouting them then pulling them back must have taken quite a bit of work. Her thinking was interrupted by a rumble, and she knew that she might as well give up on sleep for tonight- that gurgle meant her insides thought it was time for breakfast, and once someone had breakfast they couldn't go back to sleep.

She changed and stepped out, the two soldiers snapping to attention and pretending that everything was wonderful. Unfortunately, she needed to be doing something to pretend everything was wonderful, and there was simply nothing for her to do here. Well, aside from going to get some breakfast, assuming it was available this early.

"Is there anyone in the mess hall?"

"Usually not, but tonight it's been busy. It's not exactly official, but it's been doubling as the local bar when we get bad news."

That wasn't very comforting, since the only news appeared to be Knives' letter. Well, no sense mulling on something she didn't know. She worked her way down to the mess hall. It was lightly populated, but the people in it were rather quiet as crowds went. They were scattered in twos and threes, and everyone was nursing a drink, at least among those who hadn't passed out. It was the most depressing bar she had seen in some time. There were plenty of unoccupied tables, but eating alone just wouldn't do this morning. She did spy one familiar face in a corner, so she drifted over after grabbing some slightly aged toast from the counter. The samurai looked up momentarily as she sat right around the corner from him, then stared back down into the bottles before him. He smelled rather drunk.

"Mr. Rai-Dei, didn't you say that samurai always conduct themselves properly?"

He looked up, then back down at the bottles. Suddenly, he swept them all aside and into the wall, where they shattered quite noisily. Several people looked up at the sound, but slowly turned back to their own glasses, bottles, or flasks. Yes, they were quite moody tonight, not that she really felt all that good either. Rai-Dei leaned back to look at the ceiling, but there was nothing up there but ceiling, which was dreadfully dull to look at. "A samurai, you say?"

"Yeah, with the sword and bushido and the fancy moves you told me about!" She waved around a butter knife for effect, sometimes people were quite slow to catch on when drunk. He seemed to find that funny, because he chuckled.

"But am I, really? You know the power _they_ command, and after seeing what happened to your friend, I cannot be certain anymore. How do I know that this has always been my calling, when _they_ can just reach down and remake you? Is everything I believe in truly my own achievement, or a manufactured memory of things that never happened, and a person I never was? How can I be sure I am who I think I am?"

Really now, people asked the silliest questions when drunk. "I know you're you, and so do you."

He gave her a very odd look, so she continued. Sometimes you just had to spell things out. "Well, if you don't think you're you, just look in a mirror. If you have any doubt about what you know, then just relearn what you learned. If it's true, you'll learn it again, and if it's not, then you won't. Sometimes you forget things or don't quite remember right after a while, so it's good to learn what you think you know!"

Now he was crosseyed with his mouth hanging open. "Mr. Rai-Dei?"

"I... do not... feel so good..."

He moved to stand, but didn't push his chair back first, thus causing the table to tilt crazily. She barely had time to snatch up her plate before the whole table fell over, with Mr. Rai-Dei close behind. He began to snore softly. That... _was so unfair_! How come he got to sleep so soundly when she could barely close her eyes? Not to mention how rude it was to fall asleep while someone was talking with you!

"Mr. Rai-Dei, you are a very disrespectful man! You'd be an embarrassment to your daimyo, if there were any of them still around! And what would your mother think! You'd drive her to tears acting like that, not to mention nearly wasting good food!"

Now her finger was in a good scolding wag, even though Mr. Rai-Dei didn't seem to care much. She was so worked up that she didn't notice the entrance swing open until the newcomer was already inside and heading her way, a slow but steady series of taps preceding them. The less inebriated among the crowd began to edge away and surreptitiously slip out the door, while the more to-the-wind hastily chugged whatever they had left and hunkered down for the duration. Finally noticing, she gave a weak smile and tried to wave, but the feeling just wasn't there. The taps stopped right in front of her, replaced with a short, clipped question.

"How are you?"

"Me? Oh, er, I'm okay, though I am a bit tired. How are... you..."

Her question just trailed off as the recipient had already turned and started for the main counter. She considered going after the retreating figure, but then what? In the end, she just righted the table and set her plate back down to finish breakfast- after all, they had usually eaten together, and even without conversation it would still help her feel better. She watched the counter as a meal was assembled among the leftovers from yesterday, and she tried to scoot Mr. Rai-Dei over a little with her foot so there would be room at the table for another. The loaded plate was lifted from the counter, teetered precariously, and barely managed to make it back down to the counter in one piece. An audible grumble came up as the lift was attempted again, this time balancing the plate along an entire forearm to gain leverage instead of just using a hand. The sight made her heart sink- she really hoped it wouldn't be like this forever, it was just much too wrong to see such weakness where strength once resided.

However that hope would play out in the end, for right here and right now, a different hope faded. She finished breakfast alone.

¤ ¤ ¤

Quite frankly, he would have preferred to stay in bed. Indeed, he might not have gotten out at all if it wasn't for the mention of the regiment doctor having something to say. That, and an ear-splittingly loud reveille that came out of the loudspeaker so suddenly he nearly banged his head on the ceiling. Still, it was easily apparent that he was far from normal. His morning routine was completely off. Even though he used a spent shell casing instead of a fresh egg, a small item was a small item, and nothing should have thrown him off this much. As things usually went, he'd be able to leave whatever he was using perfectly balanced on the tip of his gun, then quickly holster and draw to catch the item before it fell. This time, he was wobbling so much he couldn't even keep the shell casing balanced, much less keep it in place when he tried to do the actual exercise.

Maybe it was because he kept on having memories of happier times get in the way, of other mornings when Meryl would watch him practice. She would usually watch him for a few moments here and there, smirking with raised eyebrows. Then one morning, she came in with her cloak, snatched his egg, and proceeded to give him one heck of a show. Fifty bounces later, the egg was back on the tip of his gun and he had a new appreciation for derringers. Those times and many others kept pushing into his head and throwing off his concentration.

Eventually, he had to acknowledge that he simply wasn't going to be able to do his usual routine, so he did what he could then sought out the doctor. Finding the doctor's office area wasn't a problem, as it was only a few doors down. The actual doctor, on the other hand, wasn't due for a few more minutes. The orderly that had informed him had gone back to stirring a foul-smelling concoction, in between filling jars with the stuff. He was about to ask what it was for when a pair of soldiers dragged in a third trooper by the boots, grabbed one of the jars, and poured the reddish-green soup down the guy's gullet. A second later, the man sprang up, raced for the sink, and stuck his head under the faucet while gulping for all he was worth. Wake-up juice, then. He'd seen a few dozen variants over the years and had a few administered, just enough to convince him that it was better to stick with a hangover than to go through the jolt. The scene repeated itself a few more times as more personnel were dragged, shouldered, or rolled in, but the orderly didn't even bat an eye. This must be fairly normal.

The doctor finally arrived and took but a glance around before motioning for him to come into the private office. Once inside, the man shut the door and sat behind a sheet of metal propped up by twin filing cabinets- a desk of some sort. He sat down across from the doc, nervously wringing his hands. The man shoved up the glasses that had slipped down his nose, then got right to the point.

"I've got good news, bad news, and good news. Which would you like to hear first?"

It was actually quite the question. Did he want to get the bad stuff over and done with, or should he have it tempered with some good news first? He just couldn't decide. The doctor noticed his indecision and jumped ahead.

"Well, the good news is that you are just fine. You do have somewhat low blood counts, but that's only to be expected after losing some. You'll be back to full in a matter of days. Though I must say, I did get quite a shock when you were brought in, I've seen corpses in better shape."

The doctor forced a chuckle, which simply made him cringe. It was _never_ good when a doctor tried forced humor before delivering bad news. At least this doctor knew enough to see when he should just cut the crap and not try to lighten the mood. Besides, while the thought was nice, he didn't particularly care if he was going to live another century and a half or spontaneously combust in ten seconds at the moment.

"What about Meryl?"

"Ah, yes, Ms. Stryfe, or is it Ms. Stampede now?"

He just shot the doctor a look.

"Right. To put it bluntly, she's been through the wringer. I'm still not sure if I've determined everything that was done to her, but I feel this list is accurate from her testimony. Evidently, she was... fully aware for the duration. I fear that's caused her severe mental trauma, and will require someone much more trained in mental ailments than I am for a proper diagnosis, let alone for her to recover."

The doctor paused, no doubt to let his assimilate the horrible news. Little did the good doctor know, but he already knew this bit, and then some. There wouldn't be a recovery from what he had seen in her mind. Everything that was her had been wiped clean, and a simplistic sycophantic persona had been erected in her place. He could even guess who had been the model. Knives would have used only the best for him, as Knives defined "best"- suicidal obedience and worship as a god. He still didn't know what to do about it. The doctor continued.

"Of what I have confirmed, her fallopian tubes were cut, rendering her sterile. The limb weakness is due to Roderick Syndrome, and her appendix was removed, though there was no sign of it being inflamed- it's something of a mystery. She's also had extensive tissue regeneration done, of an impressive level. Had she not pointed out where the incisions were made, I never would have found any. Whoever did this has incredible skills, yet is also _highly_ disturbed."

Well, _that_ was the understatement of the year. "Raving lunatic psycho" could also be used to describe Knives, and also acted as a pretty good reason for doing what he did. Some of it was passingly familiar, some of it not. He'd picked up enough knowledge to know a fair bit about medicine, and while the appendix might be a mystery to the doc, it did fit with what Knives would do- if it had no use, best to remove it. He had already known that Knives had removed the possibility of a child from the equation, so this simply told him the how of the matter. Roderick Syndrome, however, was a new one.

"What's Roderick Syndrome?"

The doctor fidgeted uncomfortably and shoved up his glasses again. "Well, the name is somewhat misleading... It's not actually a disease at all, but we had to call it something on the medical reports. It comes from a few dozen cases found shortly after the Fifth Moon incident, discovered by the ninth fast response mounted regiment. There were too many for them to handle alone, so medical personnel from several other regiments were called in to assist, including myself. Roderick Syndrome was actually a very deliberate severing of certain nerves, preformed by a surgeon in the employ of the Roderick gang, hence the name. The Roderick gang was heavily involved in the slave trade, and the procedure was used to make the slaves more docile for... domestic work."

"She can hardly move herself, let alone push a vacuum around or move a stack of dishes!"

The doctor shifted uncomfortably. "Not that sort of domestic work."

It suddenly hit him, and he sagged back as the chair creaked in protest. Sterility, the crippled limbs, the new persona and subtle enlargement, it all fit together into a sickening picture. Knives thought this was all she was to him. Now he had even less of an idea of what to do with her, but he knew with crystal clarity what had to be done with Knives. It didn't even feel remotely bad anymore. Next time they met, one would not leave alive.

"Fortunately, there is some good news. With the exception of the appendix, which isn't of any vital importance, we can reverse everything. However, doing so will require access to more extensive medical facilities, a neurosurgeon, and a great deal of patience."

That _was_ good news. The relief was intense, even if he still had no idea how to relate to her. At least she wouldn't be a cripple for the rest of her days... but then what? He rubbed his temple as a headache began to set in.

"I know this is a lot to take in at once. I would suggest going up on deck, the heat and light should help you relax, but be sure you drink plenty of water as you're still slightly dehydrated."

"I think I will. Thank you, doc."

They shook hands, then he got up and left. He passed another two out cold soldiers as he left the office, one more that was buried under the tap drinking off the wake-up juice, and a few other irate people waiting on the drunks to recover. There was no trouble finding the way up to the deck, but he wasn't the first one up there. A small set of bleary-eyed soldiers dotted the long railing, though the one at the very tip of the steamer's bow was no soldier. The large cross slung over her back attested to that, and the way she stood, slouched with her shoulders drooped down, spoke volumes. The gritty and unfriendly reality was beginning to force itself into her idyllic view- another reason why he was going to place a bullet in the void where Knives should of had a heart. He came up to her quietly as the morning breeze sent her hair swaying.

"Good morning, Mr. Vash."

She hadn't even turned to see who it was. "Good morning, Milly."

He leaned on the railing and looked across the sandy sea. There was a large steamwagon parked below the steamer, two jeeps approaching in the distance, and there were wheel tracks leading off in all directions, the mixture of lines and curves almost artistic. In fact, gazing back, there was someone perched on top of one of the steamer's massive cannons with a sketchpad in hand, looking between the scene below them and the strokes they were making. Why couldn't Knives see them for the richly creative and wonderful people they were? Could one memory at such a young age have truly blinded him to everything good? Tessla had lived and died a tragic life, but that didn't mean he could turn around and do the same to others. Tragedy could strike at any time, and required no malicious hand.

"Here. Meryl wrote it for you."

Milly gave him a folded and crumpled slip of paper. He took it and unfolded the paper, reading down the crumpled lines and slightly crooked characters.

_"Vash- If you're reading this, I'm either dead or close to it. There are some things you need to know. First, if I could do it all over again, I'd do a lot of things differently. That 'do everything exactly the same' stuff is a bunch of romantic bullshit. There are many paths to happiness, and this one has had way too many bumps. Don't get me wrong- being with you has been a kind of bliss I would never trade away, but it's been a hard ride, and I guess more than I could handle._

_Second, don't you dare let any grief burden you. I've come to this point as a result of the choices I've made, and the results of those choices, both foreseen and unforeseen. That does not change the fact that they were **my** choices to make, and I will take the consequences of them, both good and bad. If this is where it ends, then so be it. If Knives uses me to force a choice between me and humanity, **I** will choose humanity, and you should not have regrets over my choice._

_Goodbye Vash. Love and Peace._

He gave the slip back to Milly. "It's as much for you as it is for me, I think she didn't mention you to try and keep you safe from Knives, in case he found it."

He squinted into the twin suns as they rose higher. How Meryl had done it, he couldn't be sure, but she had given him the answer yet again. His vision was clear, and he knew exactly what course to take. Meryl was gone, Knives had erased her and put someone new in her place. How life would be for this new Stryfe, he couldn't say. She had more baggage than anyone else new to the world, but ultimately, she would be the one to chose how to live her life. He would help her regain what Knives had stolen, but once that was done, he had to step away. It was nearly hardwired into her to obey him, so she could only make her own choices in his absence.

He took out his gun, flashing brightly in the dawn. He threw up his other arm, watched the arc and shine, every movement, every twist and turn, even the slight drift from the wind. He slipped the Colt back in the holster, then drew it with blinding speed. A sharp ring of metal against metal was sent over the desert. _"I'm going to end this, Knives."_

The shell casing perched perfectly on the tip of his gun.

* * *

Hmm... "Endless Rain of Glass Shards" hell, "Trapped in Elevator With Gaseous Fat Man" hell, "Link's 'Hey, Wissen!' Fairy" hell... 

Wolfwood: What are you doing?

Oh, I'm trying to pick out a suitable eternal punishment for Knives for whenever he gets here.

Wolfwood: Well, this "Nonstop Whirlwind of Shit" hell you've got the readers in sounds like a good choice.

Har de har har. Ooh, this one looks good!

Wolfwood: "Get Exactly What You Wanted" hell? Hello! Is your tie too tight or something? We're looking for _punishments_ here!

Oh, that's just because it looks good on the outside. Trust me, if you end up down here, that's the worst of them all. Anyway, gotta cut this short since I've got a honkin' big section for...

**Reviewer Responses**

betsytheripper: You won't have to do that, mostly since I'm very well versed in the Saotome school of martial arts final attack. ¤runs for the hillsĈ

hope-is-4ever: There will always be hope, as long as there are sneaky authors armed with The Plan™.

Blu: Why'd you have to hurt my head and my stoof? Now I think I'm dain bramaged.

Yma: Ah yes, nothing like a little evil, though I think even the major Knives fans are a tad sickened by this point. Still, I seem to have gotten the exact reaction I was aiming for when I wrote that chapter's ending, so I guess that's a good thing.

cjflutterbye: Well, us artists are known for our X-TREME death defying stunts, so a few flames are all in a day's work. Never fear, there shall be more good times for our heroes. Have faith in The Plan™.

buttercup: She may be down, but she's far from out. Just don't ask a Magic 8-ball anything about Meryl, or Stryfe as the case may be- they seem to _explode_ when you do that.

peridot: A contraction and six words- I've got worse in mind for him.

igbogal: Well, I've been duly flattered. Happy to serve all your heart-twisting needs! Though I don't actually speak Latin- I just know of a translator. I do know some Spanish.

Luneko: Whee! More new people and another marriage proposal! Can't act on it though, as kitsune got number one and there's only one window open. I do apologize for the sleepless night, though the squeeing put some interesting images in my head. You might want to see Blu for thwapping needs over that remark. Now you've been formally inducted into the nuthouse, so feel free to kick back, relax, and gibber to yourself in the lost language of the Incan monkey gods.

kitsune: Well, allow me to apologize early for this new pit of mind-numbing despair for you to crawl out of. However, I shall not lead my loyal readers astray, and I shall deliver you unto the promised land of an ending that shall not suck horribly, though there's probably going to be two more instances of severely depressing plot twists yet to come. At least the next chapter is going to be better!

Aine: Well, short-girl isn't just agreeable, but _very_ agreeable, and Vash suffers even more for it! Talk about twisted... Huh, maybe this is all my way of letting out the stress of getting a house and mortgage...

ReadingWhiz: The yellow-eyed demon is none other than Legato. He's been having a nonstop party down on the sixth circle ever since the last chapter. Pointy hats, pony rides, pin the arm on the outlaw, it's a real bash. I hear all the cool dead villains got invited, and Dracula gate-crashed the event. The Stick may be wielded by anyone with a mastery of Beatdown-fu.

Redcliff: Names are being taken, and Knives has been raking up the bad karma.

* * *

Next Chapter: Caught in the midst of the battle between Vash and Knives and pressured from all sides, a few people try to find a place of their own and discover what they can truly be. 


	37. Chapter 35: Glimmer

Five illnesses, one A/C breakdown during summer, chronic short-handed conditions at work had them drop pretenses and just schedule me for six days a week for a few months (_nice_ overtime pay for it), my very first car accident (four car pileup, nobody injured thankfully), and all the joy of living in _my_ own house.

Disclaimer: The author is only human. There are no fangs. Honest.

* * *

Rise of the Silver Stars

Chapter 35: Glimmer

His desk was the usual mess. Scattered piles of paper leaned precariously, ready to tip over the instant the steamer began to move. On top of the mess, front, center, and half folded, laid the worst piece of paper he'd had to see. Sometimes he'd flick it open, read it over, then flick it closed again. Sometimes he'd pick it up with one hand and twirl it between his fingers before setting it back down. Sometimes he'd just pray. He'd been doing those things for the past hour. It never changed.

He couldn't have believed it ordinarily, but things were anything but ordinary. He'd seen an army decimated in minutes, he'd seen lightning thrown around at will, he's seen someone, a friend, become someone... _else_. Now he was stuck with a simple little letter that effectively declared war. No, _not_ war.

There had never been a war on Gunsmoke, but there had been plenty of battles. They usually ended with one side or the other surrendering, terms would be agreed upon, and then everyone would go on, some in more comfort than others. War was simply that on a larger scale. This wasn't war. There was no mention of surrender or terms. It simply told how it would go on, and there was no mention of people- just "pets". It lacked the simplest acknowledgement of respect, however begrudging, that each side had for the other in battle. No, it wasn't a declaration of war- it was a notice of extermination. Those that would be permitted to survive wouldn't go on- they'd just linger. Of the options given, he'd take death.

Of course, there was the chance they could win. However, the eye on the fifth moon stared down, unblinking. It wasn't readable, but the message was there, etched into stone on the grandest scale- "Forget it." Goddamn plants.

There was a knock at the door. "Come in."

Then again, he had gone and done something utterly ludicrous once before, inspired to madness as only love can do. Despite all those long odds, every hurdle had been cleared, and they'd managed to make a fairly good life for themselves. One built upon protecting the weak, not preying on them. Surely they could find a way once again... And if not, they could at least spit into fate's eye. How did that saying go? 'Do not go gently into the night'?

His train of thought derailed as Moore pushed the door open, beaming in a slight smile, more through her eyes than anywhere else. He'd never seen this look before. It was quite obvious that this had nothing to do with supplies or requisitions. He gazed at her quizzically as she tipped the door closed then glided across the room, as if she was not quite touching the floor. This was definitely new. "So, what brings you here?"

She just giggled slightly. Curiouser and curiouser... She swirled around the desk then hopped up to sit on it, scattering one pile of forms. She looked up, down, and to the sides, but somehow not quite looking at anything. "Are you okay?"

"I'm... not sure." Even as she said it, her grin grew, completely at odds to her tone. Now he was starting to worry. He reached out and clasped her hand with his.

"Talk to me, Moore."

Her eyes finally found his, and the effect was amazing. The world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of them- except that wasn't quite right, there was something else...

"We're going to be parents."

"Eh?"

"I'm going to be a mommy, you're going to be a daddy, and we're going to have a perfect little baby."

"_Eh?_"

"The doc just told me that I'm pregnant."

An incomprehensible number of thoughts and feelings were flooding through him. _"Is this real? Are we ready for this? Can we raise a child on the steamer? What would the Cavalry think? Will the child be healthy?"_ Those questions and a hundred others swirled through him. Somewhere in the middle of it all, he stood up and wrapped his arms around her, hooking his chin over her shoulder. Now it was his turn to look about aimlessly. It wasn't long before his gaze stopped wandering, and what he focused on pushed aside the tumult, leaving a simple dichotomy.

Knives' letter sat right beside Moore. A proclamation of doom and the promise of new future. An end and a beginning. Death and Life.

It was now very personal.

The devil missed a great chance to buy up some souls at that moment. He would have signed his away in a heartbeat, for their safety. But there was someone rumored to be the devil himself riding on his steamer- one Vash the Stampede. However, it wasn't just him. This involved everyone, in a way he was just starting to grasp, and thus he should involve everyone as well.

"Moore?"

"...Yeah?"

"I'm calling a meeting. Me, you, Roy, Vash, those bandits, anyone else able to represent something. Tonight."

"What for?"

"How to deal with Knives, because he has to be stopped."

He tightened his hold on her slightly- and on the new life she sheltered.

"He _has_ to be."

¤ ¤ ¤

She should've snuck onto the steamer. Sure, she wasn't exactly invited to tag along, but the other option had been to stay behind and wait. That would have been the sensible thing to do, but it just wouldn't work for her anymore- if she stayed, he'd go away again, and even if he did come back, it would be too long to wait. Therefor, she had snagged a ride with a musclehead and his minions with a bit of passive/aggressive persuasion. Namely, she had faked a crying session, and shin kicked the guys that had tried to throw her off until they gave up and let her stay. It wasn't like she hadn't practiced the routine before- when she wanted a ride, she damn well got it.

Still, it was about as much fun as shoveling out a Toma stall. She had to fight for just about everything- food, water, a place to sleep, _everything_. Sometimes she just had to do without. Again, that was nothing new. What was new was the stench. It was like nobody could smell a thing except her, and when they took of their boots, _ugh_. Washing was out of the question- for this stench, the only solution would be fire, and lots of it.

At least it had been a fairly short trip. In a small twist of irony, while she had been last in line for nearly everything during the trip, she was one of the first to see the ship and steamer. They came up on them in the middle of the night, and since she had no proper place to sleep, she was still awake to stay warm. They pulled right up to the steamer, even though she had serious doubts about a gang of bandits sitting right next to a military ship and not getting blasted to kingdom come. Still, they didn't get shot at, and the soldiers even let Neon walk right on in. However, they weren't letting anyone else come in, and that seemed to include her.

As if a few soldiers would be able to keep her out. All she needed was a little time and to keep her eyes open for points of entry. There was one minor problem, in that the steamer seemed to have a great deal more armor than the ones she was used to, and therefor only had a fraction of the number of entry points. She had already tried one before the suns rose, but it was quite a bit tougher than the other hatches she had broken through in the past. Military grade was pretty darn good. It looked like she might be baking in the suns for the day, until she could try lockpicking again under cover of darkness. The Bad Lads were already quieting down as the wavy shimmers of the coming day's heat began to rise up. That was about when she heard a sharp ting from up above.

Craning her neck back, she just barely caught a glimpse of flapping red cloth at the tip of the steamer. She cupped her hands and shouted up, and was rewarded when a familiar head of hair poked over the railing. She waved to him, and he vaulted the railing and began to slide down the hull. Unfortunately, though she was half expecting it from what was below him, his coat snagged on a gun emplacement just as he was about to reach ground, changing his graceful landing into a faceplant in the flowing sand. She hopped down herself and strolled over as he picked himself up. She was about to wap him over the head for leaving her behind again when she got a look as his face.

He looked _old_. Not in a gray hair and wrinkles way, but in an infinitely tired way, like someone who was running short on hope. She recognized it from that time, years ago, when she had first stumbled across him in an alley. It was also a look she had seen in mirrors a few times too many while she had been searching for him. Even his normally bright and cheery smile was lacking its luster, and that was bad. He had kept grinning through so many bad times, so the only way something like _this_ could happen would be if...

No. Nothing had happened until she heard it from him.

"Where's Meryl?"

She winced as his composure faltered for just an instant, and she internally slapped herself for just blurting it out. She wanted to be graceful about it, not drop it like a sack of grain, but there it was, and he spoke.

"She's... It's complicated. I'm still trying to make sense of it myself. It's like... Ah, how can I explain this?"

He scratched his head while she waited, tight lipped. When he spoke again, she could hear the depression in his voice.

"I'm not certain, since she's still up and moving, but she's not _Meryl_ anymore. Something happened, and I think- no, I _know_ -that her, uh, I guess it would be her soul... Well, it's gone."

"Gone?"

"Gone to heaven, I suppose. That's where good souls go when they leave the body, right? But she isn't dead. I don't suppose that makes any sense, does it?"

She shook her head. Trying to sort through his statements left her head spinning. Hell, he had pretty much just told her that Meryl was both alive _and_ dead. She was quite sure that everyone was either one or the other, so what was with this?

"I guess you'll just have to see for yourself."

So saying, he took her by the hand and led her inside. His grip wasn't crushing, but it was very firm, like he was holding something delicate that might slip through his fingers at any moment. It didn't take long for it to get old- she was a big girl now, and didn't need to have her hand held. With a bit of whining and a few tugs, she pulled free and walked beside him until they found the person they were looking for.

After a few hours, what he had said before made a great deal more sense. She also felt that maybe having him hold her hand wasn't so bad after all.

¤ ¤ ¤

No matter how she tried to look at it, she was in a pickle. Or in a jam. Or maybe in pickle jam, since she wasn't _really_ in a pickle _or_ a jam but people always said they were in one of those things if they were in trouble, and she had enough trouble to be in both. It made sense, since pickle jam would probably taste quite awful.

This certainly wasn't how she had thought life would go. As long as she tried to do good, things were supposed to work out okay, right? Things _had_ gone rather well for a long time. She set out into the world and found a nice job. Not the best job, but certainly not the worst either, and it did put food on the table and a roof over her head, which were the important things. Later, she found herself making all sorts of friends, and eventually meeting the person who became her best friend and job partner. Those were easy times, as she just followed someone else's lead since they seemed so sure of the path forward. She almost didn't have to think at all, just adding a few bits of family wisdom here and a little different point of view there.

Even when her heart got torn and the world slowly turned to a terribly cruel and twisted place, she could keep going because her friend was just ahead of her, leading the way. Even as the two of them came to be accused of terrible things, she had faith that her friend could find a way out. She didn't have to do anything but keep following her friend, and everything would work out.

Except now, her friend was gone.

The loss itself was hard enough, but tougher still was the _thinking_ that beset her. She couldn't stop thinking of all the times she could have done something differently, turned right instead of left, moving instead of waiting and waiting instead of moving... And it all kept coming back to the simple fact that she was completely out of control.

No husband, no job, a "Dead or Alive" bounty, and now not even a best friend. She was inconsolable, and most people who could try and console her were inconsolable themselves. Even her friend's last words, such as they were, were far from comforting. There was a message in the message, rather roundabout since it was mostly directed to Mr. Vash, but she supposed that was the only way it could get through. It was very simple, really, except in more complicated words- "I won't be there for you, Milly. Make your own decisions. Goodbye."

She wanted to make things better. She wanted to set the wrongs right again. However, there was so much that was wrong, and she had so little to work with. It almost seemed that the world might be better off without her around.

Almost.

She really needed to find something to do. Living off the generosity of others just wouldn't do, she needed to pull her own weight, if only to keep her from dwelling on the might-have-beens too much. She had made a few rounds of the ship in the past hours, but everything that needed to be done was being done. Not even big big brother could offer her anything, as just about everything required months of training. Then there was the problem of the bounty. Indeed, the more she looked for something to do, the more clear it became that there was almost nothing left that she _could_ do. Well, except become a bank robber or Toma hustler or even a real "enforcer" person, but those were all awful because she'd be hurting lots of good people. And just to top it off, she _still_ had no idea why she had guards hovering near her at all times. It had something to do with Knives, but beyond that she was at a loss.

A little past evening found her sitting near the steamer's main stairway. There was a fair bit of movement up and down, and she could catch snippets of chatter. She eventually caught some familiar voices in the passage, as Mr. Vash and Mr. Julius talked on a landing above. Once she caught Knives' name, she leaned over to hear better.

"Won't you at least come and _listen_? You know him better than anyone."

"It's not that, it's just that I've never been able to find him. Worse, he knows me too well. Get me in a room with him and I can out-fight him, but when it comes to finding Knives, he's always two steps ahead of me. If you can figure out how to catch him, I can do what has to be done, but until then I'm not of much use."

"So you're just going to leave us in the dark? We need someone who knows Knives, and if you won't come, then who will?"

_"Someone who knows Knives?"_ Well, come to think of it, she actually did know a few things about him. Mostly about how nasty a person he was, but aside from Mr. Vash, she didn't think there was anyone who had spent more time around Knives than her. Finally feeling like there was something she could do, she hesitantly called up to where they were.

"Um, excuse me, but I can help if you need someone who knows Knives."

Their heads poked over to look down, so she waved. Mr. Vash brightened up a bit and turned back to Mr. Julius.

"Hey, that's great! Milly can keep you filled in, and she's always been on my tail no matter how many times I tried to shake her. She's do a lot better than I would, I'm sure of it. Well, I'll just be on my way then!"

Mr. Vash gave Mr. Julius a parting slap on the back, except that it was just a bit too hard and nearly sent the commander tumbling headfirst over the railing. Luckily, Mr. Vash hadn't gotten far and managed to get back to pull him up by the back of the neck, but not before a piece of paper slipped out of his jacket and fluttered down. It twisted open in midair and settled right into her hands, though it stayed there for just an instant before one of her guards snatched it up and ran it back up to the commander. However, it had been in front of her long enough. Having to sort through piles of forms every day had given her a rather quick reading ability.

She knew why everyone was so dreary now, and also why big big brother had these guards for her. She even knew why he didn't want her to know. The whole Thompson family was taught to do nothing less that the very best they could, and an opportunity like this, where one person could help so many... Well, it was simple, wasn't it? She had something nobody else did, and if they wanted to catch Knives, well, she could help, though the thought left her with butterflies in her tummy. It would be a big jump for her, and she was far from sure if she was ready. Then again, as dad always said, sometimes you just had to plunge ahead. Of course, there was always the question of whether or not they'd let her do it.

All that thinking had somehow managed to fit in her short walk up the stairs. Mr. Julius had tucked away Knives' note and was now gesturing down the hall.

"Well, I suppose we better get going. Everyone else is waiting, I was just out trying to round up one more for the meeting, and it looks like you're it."

He led the way to the front of the ship, and into a room that reminded her of the ballroom on a big passenger steamer, except smaller. It was still located just over the main deck, and afforded a wonderful view of whatever was in front, which in this case was a bit of the crashed ship and still-glowing sky beyond. The people in the room were a rather varied lot, but just about all people she knew. Big big brother was right there, engaged in a little arm wrestling with Mr. Neon, who actually appeared to be holding his own, and she had never seen anyone manage that against big big brother. Not far away was Mr. Marlon and Ms. Marianne who she hadn't seen in the longest time, both coated in dust. A little beyond them was an older fellow all decked out in pretty colors. She was fairly sure he had been up on the mountain back then... Goodness, that had only been a few days ago, hadn't it? It felt like months had passed. There were a few other cavalry soldiers in the room, though only Ms. Moore was recognizable. She took a chair as everyone settled down and looked to Mr. Julius, except for big big brother and Mr. Neon, who still hadn't finished.

"Okay people, here's the situation. As you all know, there was recently a major battle between us, an assortment of unorganized bounty hunters, Vash the Stampede, and forces under the command of one 'Millions Knives'. Of these, only the bounty hunters and Knives' troops came into direct contact, but the result was disastrous for the bounty hunters. Despite an overwhelming numerical advantage, the bounty hunters were virtually annihilated, and if my information is correct, the greatest of Knives' weapons was _not_ used in the battle. After tracking Knives to this location, we've completely lost his trail and received notice that Knives intends nothing less that the complete eradication of everyone on the planet."

He paused for a moment to let that sink in, but she already knew all that, having lived through most of it firsthand. He continued shortly.

"From what I've been able to gather, this is not a new development. Knives has apparently been involved in nearly every major disaster on Gunsmoke since, and including, the Great Fall. Other incidents that involved him or agents acting on his behalf include the destruction of July and Augusta, the disappearance of the populations of several dozen small towns, and a nearly countless number of destructive incidents throughout history. This is the man that deserves the reputation of Vash the Stampede, and then some. He has achieved this through the use of a multitude of nearly unique abilities, most of which stem from his origin. He was born- or created, as the case may be -about a year before the Great Fall, and is evidently not a human at all, but the product of a plant. As such, he has access to the full power output of a plant, and has turned this into a weapon capable of devastating an entire city. I believe he is fully capable of carrying out his intentions."

A sudden shattering sound had everyone jump and a few roll for cover before noticing that it was only the table big big brother and Mr. Neon had been arm wrestling on. Without a table, they had to stop fooling around like boys were prone to do and actually pay attention, though she didn't doubt that they'd be looking to continue as soon as they could. Mr. Julius waited until everything had calmed down before starting again.

"The task before us is a doozy. We have to stop Knives from carrying out his plan no matter the cost. We've got Vash the Stampede on our side, and he's assured me he can take Knives down. However, he's made it clear that he can't locate Knives, so that task has fallen to us. So, let's hear some ideas, suggestions, observations, anything you've got that might be useful."

Mr. Neon spoke up first. "I say we should swipe that big nuclear firecracker you Cavalry bums have stashed away and jam the button when the bastard shows his face."

Mr. Julius sputtered for a moment, then regained composure. "How'd you find out about that?"

"Easy. Just listen to the bar talk and you hear all sorts of stuff, and I'm the man who makes it his business to know all about the brightest sparklies out there."

"Well, even if we _could_ get our hands on it, we still have the problem of finding Knives."

It appeared that Mr. Neon didn't have any ideas there, as he just scowled, tipped his hat down, and leaned against the wall. Ms. Marianne spoke up next, suggesting a large scouting effort, but the colorful old man cut her off. "Sí, señiorita, against any normal foe that would work, but this is no man we hunt, but a Diablo. Without great strength, even crossing paths with but one of his minions will be deadly, and over so quickly that it will be as if the sand swallowed them whole! We cannot spread ourselves thin."

There was a short silence, then one of the Cavalry soldiers hesitantly raised his hand.

"Go ahead, Engineer Mayers."

"Well, er, what about the satellite? It can look at any point on the planet, so we might be able to find him that way."

"That's not a bad idea, but the problem with the satellite is just that- it's _the_ satellite. With only one, it'd take months to finish a single sweep with radar, let alone with something that can spot a person. Still, good job for having the first non-suicidal idea. Let's hear a few more."

This time, there was a long silence. Everyone was trying their very best to figure out how to find Knives, but the more she thought, the less it seemed that _finding_ Knives was their real problem. After all, if someone's house was swallowed by sandworms, the real problem wasn't a missing house, but that the place the house had been might be along a worm trail, in which case a new house might just get swallowed up all over again. Dealing with the problem that you had right this instant might not work if there's a larger problem behind it. So what was the real problem?

Some time later, everyone was again startled when she suddenly jabbed her finger up in the air and proclaimed "I've got it!"

"You know how to find Knives?"

"Oh, that? No."

All eyes that had been on her either shut again or rolled back. Mr. Julius squeezed his temple, sighed, and that asked her what she did have.

"Well, I've been thinking, and finding Knives isn't really important. All we need to do is show him that we're not the threat he thinks we are. Then he won't want to kill us and we can all live in peace!"

"But he just about singlehandedly took out an entire army! How could he think we're threats?"

"Well, no, I suppose he doesn't consider us threats. However, I've been around him for several months, and besides the trying to kill everyone thing, he does have an very strong devotion to his family. In fact, they're the reason behind everything he's done, and he won't stop until he feels that his family is safe."

"But Vash doesn't want him to be doing any of this."

She tilted her head to the side. "Well, Mr. Vash can take care of himself. It's his other family that has him mad at us."

"There are _more_ of them!"

Everyone suddenly began to pay attention, as if this was some big thing they didn't know. Her head just tilted a little further in puzzlement. "Of course, they are plants after all. They have relatives all over Gunsmoke."

There were a number of astonished murmurs across the room, though a few faces looked a bit puzzled to her. One of them, Mr. Mayers, spoke after a bit of hesitation. "You don't mean they're related to the power plants, do you?"

"Of course they are. Mr. Vash told me himself that one was their mother."

"So they _are_ alive..." He sank back, looking half astonished and half gleeful. Mr. Julius just looked plain astonished. "If they're his family... Good Lord, no wonder he hates us..."

She nodded in agreement. "If someone was forcing my family to work and work until they couldn't work anymore, I'd hate them too. I'd hate them so much, I'd... I'd... I'd do something really awful!"

A lot of whispered words were exchanged. Evidently this was news to a lot of people, even big big brother. However, it all came to a screeching halt when Mr. Neon slammed his fist into the wall.

"_Shut the hell up!_ So this bigshot's looking for a little vengeance. I don't give a rat's ass about that. All that matters is that he's trying to snuff out our lights, and nobody's gonna make me stop glowin', least of all some mama's boy!"

Arguments broke out all over. Some agreed with Mr. Neon, others wanted to look more into the plant side of things, and Mr. Julius was stuck in the middle trying to calm things down. He wasn't doing much good as the room got louder. The arguments grew more heated, though everyone had good points. It was just like another argument she had once watched, one that ultimately led to...

In one smooth motion, she stood up, shrugged Nicholas up and off her back, and then slammed the long end into the floor with every bit of force she could muster. The reverberation sounded like an exploding artillery shell, and everything not welded down bounced. Everyone looked at her, and some glared, but enough was enough. "Stop all this fighting! Yes, what Knives is doing is awful, and yes, what's happening to his family is awful, but arguing about what's the right thing to do won't change what's happened! Many people have died, many _good_ people, but all that matters is trying to save whoever we have left! _That_ is why we're all here, and how we do it doesn't matter! We each do things our own way, but if we don't work together, we'll lose even more. There are a lot of us here, more than enough to try several things at once, so stop fighting over what to do. We can do this together, to support each other and watch each other's back, or we can go our separate ways, but I can't stand by and watch as everything falls apart again!"

Silence reigned. She looked around the room, moving from one set of eyes to the next. Each held for a moment before breaking away. Maybe she had gone a bit overboard with that...

A clattering from the back of the room made her turn. A vent grating had popped off and landed on the floor as a head of red hair emerged from the black hole. Lina stood up, dusted herself off, crossed her arms, and faced the group. "I'm here to help, however I can."

A pin drop would have made quite the commotion. Nobody moved, save for an arm that poked out of the inky depths of the vent, curled up in a fist, and gave a pump. "Me too!"

The room came back to life, this time with murmurs of assent intermingled with a few louder proclamations of support. She started to feel a little tingly, but in a wonderful way. Roy came over and shook her hand. That was the first time he'd ever done that. "Why?"

"Well, because nothing else felt quite right. Congratulations on the new job."

"What new job?"

"Why, saving Gunsmoke, of course. I've got a good feeling about you leading."

Well, she hadn't been expecting this. Still, now that she thought about it, there were a lot of good things she could do. It sure beat the other option. "Well, if that's how you feel, I'll do my very best."

"You've never done anything less."

He moved back as a whole swarm of well wishers advanced. She shook hands with them all, noting that they all had something about them though she wasn't sure exactly what it was. She thought about it for a bit, and finally decided that it was a little bit of hope and a little bit of faith. She prayed that it was not misplaced. Finally getting through the crowd, which settled back down into their seats, she thought for a moment. "Well then, who here knows about plants besides Mr. Mayers? ...er, just speak up if you do."

The room was quiet.

"Well, we'll need a little more know-how than that. I know-"

"Wait a sec."

Mr. Neon shoved his hat back up to get her in view. "It's too early to be getting into the grit of things. If we're gonna glow, there's one vital detail that you need to do now. After all, if you don't pick a good name at the start, people will call you whatever they dream up, and that just doesn't shine. So what's it gonna be, beautiful?"

"A good shiny name? Let's see..." Well, when it came to shiny, it'd be hard to do more than what Mr. Vash and Knives could do. Back on the mountain, Mr. Vash had been just as bright as the rising suns, and there was no doubt in her mind that Knives couldn't do something similar. So if they were the suns, then were they the moons? No, that wouldn't do, it sounded rude and Mr. Vash had nearly shot one down, not to mention that there weren't enough moons to go around. Odd, that- five has always seemed like too many until now. Then what about the stars? There were certainly plenty of those, but it just didn't sound right in her head. It was missing something. Her gaze wandered between the stars emerging up in the sky and the people seated below, until a flash of light from Ms. Marianne's uniform caught her eye. She smiled- it was just right.

"Then we'll be called the Silver Stars!"

* * *

Six and a half months. The sad part is that it's far from a personal record, though I'll hopefully never be making a run on that again. I bet there's only one of you left, clad in rags, who'll latch onto my leg and scream "Why did you abandon us!" Sorta like Wolfwood here.

Wolfwood: I'd hate you for that, but I'm too busy cheering on my big girl.

Legato: You already hate him, and master will have no trouble dispatching with this attempted move against him.

Yeah, because we all know that ragtag groups of people going up against overwhelming odds never ever works, and will surely result in lots of blood.

Wolfwood: That's sarcasm, right?

Wolfwood: _Right?_

...Well, the reviewer responses have sadly been canned due to policy changes. However, this newfangled "Forum" feature just might be what's needed to fill in this empty void. Time to start mucking around...

* * *

Next Chapter: The just-formed group goes off on a recruitment drive, which may include some help for one of Vash's bigger problems. 


End file.
